


My Mate, My Spark, My Own

by xcaellachx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Magic, Awesome Alan Deaton, BAMF Stiles, Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Laura Hale Lives, M/M, Magical Creatures, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Nemeton, Not Canon Compliant, Scott is a Bad Friend, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcaellachx/pseuds/xcaellachx
Summary: When Stiles' dad dies, he decides to take the final step in becoming Derek's mate by receiving the Bite. It should be no surprise that Stiles does not react like the usual human getting bit. Nope, Stiles' Spark opens up and he becomes a BAMF magic user who not only takes on the Purists - those against werewolves -  but also works to bring back lost magical species to help in the battle.In between the action, he finds the love of his pack, basks in the love of his mate, and plans to change the world. Because that's what Stiles does.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Lydia Martin, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 206
Kudos: 825
Collections: Teen wolf





	1. Chapter 1

“Today we lay to rest Sheriff John Stilinski. He was an incredibly brave man who fought for justice and the safety of our county for over fifteen years. Even in the last moments of his life, he protected the ten lives being held hostage…”

Stiles couldn’t move. His usual ADHD had him quivering and moving around, fingers always flexing and moving. But now he couldn’t move. He was numb. He wanted his father holding him, his mother running her fingers through his hair that he’d finally grown back. But no, he was an adult now, but even more, he was an orphan. Little Orphan Stiles. More accurately, Little Orphan Mieczysław.

Whatever. He was alone now. No more family. All he had was…

Large hands lay on his shoulders, gripping and pulling him back against the strong heat of his mate’s chest. Derek Hale was his boyfriend slash mate and he was a werewolf. His old friends couldn’t believe he’d ‘scored’ himself a werewolf. Hell, he didn’t even know how it’d happened. But Derek loved him and that was a miracle. A miracle he needed desperately right now.

“My own, the funeral has been over for two hours. The reverend waited but finally had to leave,” Derek said. His voice always soothed Stiles. Derek was older than him, much older, like by decades and maybe even centuries. The magical blood of werewolves prevented aging and kept them young for an indeterminate time. Age was something Derek was tight lipped on, but it didn’t stop Stiles from guessing, even if he did get shot down each time.

Werewolves. Who would’ve guessed, huh? When they revealed themselves to the world in the seventeenth century, the werewolves cleaned house and then were welcomed like family. Cleaned house meaning their blood was found to have healing properties and stopped consumption, also known as tuberculosis in its tracks, cured yellow fever, measles, cholera. With modern science led by werewolf scientists as well as human, they were able to find cures for cancer, AIDS, MS, ALS, even Alzheimer’s. The world was a healthier place to live in. Lives were longer, humans able to live into their 120’s and beyond.

Stiles had seen the healing miracle up close when Scott went in to the hospital to get an infusion of werewolf blood to cure his debilitating asthma. There were worries at first that the blood would turn people into werewolves, but that was found to be false. To be turned, the alpha would have to bite you. Something about the magic of intention mixed with saliva that turned you. Apparently it hurt like hell to change for the first time, but after that you’re just a regular pup, as they were called, because of their inability to have control over their wolves. It usually took six months to a year to gain control over their shifting, though some had problems that lasted years. Those pups were assigned mentors and counselors who could help them through whatever was blocking them.

Regardless of their work to clean up the health of the planet, there were still some Purists that despised werewolves and wanted to put them into kennels like all good little puppies were. Anti-werewolf literature littered most schools and students had to go to the Preserve on field trips to learn about werewolves from the wolves themselves. The truth, not the fables or lies.

The one thing Derek didn’t have, possibly for centuries if Stiles’ guess was good, was a mate, no matter how far and wide he searched. For the last fifteen years, he had traveled through each of his pack’s territories, meeting wolves near and far, searching for that one special someone. While he could pass the time with someone easily enough, it was never anything deeper than friendship. In the early 1950’s, he met Paige O’Neill and they formed a deep friendship. Derek had been wondering if he just wasn’t going to find his mate, so he and Paige talked and decided to go forth with turning her into a werewolf. His ‘pup’, as a new wolf was referred to, enjoyed her new life as a werewolf. They spent a very pleasant thirty-five or so years together before she found her mate when they’d made a trip to a pack in southern Arizona. He had happily sent her on her way, pleased that she had found her completion.

One day, years later, after returning to his ancestors pack lands, he’d been called to meet with the Sheriff of Beacon Hills. During their meeting, Derek met Stiles. Sparks flew, literally. Stiles, the gawky sixteen-year-old was glowing before him, tiny sparks flickering through Derek’s sight. He realized it was his wolf seeing these things and the boy wasn’t literally sparkling before him. This boy was his mate, his very own mate, finally, after so many years alone. It was obvious that he would have to wait for him to turn of age, but there was no reason he couldn’t get to know him.

They clicked right away, as most mates do, and spent most of their free time together. Stiles fell for him quickly and in the dark of the night when Derek would sneak into his room and lay on top of the covers, Stiles snuggled safely beneath, he confessed his love. Derek returned the sentiments, kissing him softly for the very first time. It was perfection. Being together was as easy as breathing, every breath new and brilliant.

Tragedy hit Derek when his parents were killed a year into his and Stiles' courtship. It had looked like a car accident, but both wolves were decapitated. It made no sense and screamed of assassination. Stiles had worked with his dad as closely as he could to try and get hints as to who had killed them, but they never found so much as a fingerprint or scent to follow. It was the perfect murder. They had a good idea who was responsible - cough cough, the Argent's, cough - but they hadn't been able to prove anything. Yet.

Derek threw himself into his pack and Stiles, being extra vigilant in their protection. They renovated the pack house, expanding it so the whole pack could be together and installed massive security systems, cameras, motion sensors, and even escape tunnels to get out of the house in a hurry. At night, though, Derek would collapse in Stiles’ arms and sob out his grief for his parents. Stiles had lost his mom at eleven, but he had known it was coming. Derek’s parents had the potential to live nearly a millennium but even werewolf healing couldn’t heal a beheading.

With Derek’s help and encouragement, Stiles graduated high school early. Derek may have had ulterior motives. Stiles had an early birthday in September which meant the sooner Stiles was out of school, the sooner Derek could openly pursue him, as that had been the sheriff's request. Not to mention school was hell for Stiles, but that didn’t matter anymore.

Stiles finished school ahead of their initial timeline and was ready to jump into mating Derek, dreaming about the ceremony with ideas like Lego cake toppers and a Dead Pool reverend. An actual ceremony wasn’t required. As soon as the mates bit each other, they were considered mated and able to have all the same benefits married human couples did. Stiles thought Derek might like the addition of a ceremony and Stiles could use the event to invite Derek’s friends and family from across the country and in Europe. He wondered if he could get Captain America to come.

None of that mattered now, none of their plans did. Stiles had thought about taking a year off before college to mate and had been on the verge of moving in with Derek and considering the Bite, when his father was killed in the line of duty. Life as he knew it had ended.

“Please, Stiles, let me take you home so we can warm you up,” Derek was worried about his mate. He was so pale, much more so than usual. Tiny shivers wracked his lean frame and Derek took off his coat to wrap around him, hoping to transfer some of his body heat.

“At least he has her. They’re together again,” Stiles murmured, gaze moving between the grave of his mother and father.

“I will carry you if I must,” Derek warned and saw a flicker of a smile cross his mate’s plush lips.

“As much as I’d like that, I’ll cooperate,” Stiles said and turned his back on the last member of his family. He was truly alone.

He didn’t even have Scott anymore. After Derek had told Stiles about the Argent family, and what they believed in, Stiles had confronted Scott and asked if he knew who he was dating. Didn’t he care that his girlfriend’s family were werewolf haters? Scott insisted that love could change her heart. It didn’t change anything. In fact, Allison got Scott to stop hanging out with him until he no longer acknowledged Stiles was alive. And he had been healed by werewolf blood! But that didn’t seem to matter now.

What would happen if Derek died or didn’t want him anymore? An idea popped into his head and he decided to wait until they were home to bring it up. Derek had been sleeping at his house with him since his dad died. That was convenient. It would make it easier if they were alone.

Derek wrapped his arm around him as they walked to his already running car. Stiles loved this car, it was fast and sleek and people tended to stare as they drove by. It wasn’t Roscoe, but it was nice. Roscoe on the other hand was all he had left of his mom. Derek understood, having lost his own mother, and for Stiles’ birthday, had the jeep fixed fixed from the tires up. New engine and transmission, new paint job, lights, everything except the interior. Stiles had insisted on keeping it because he swore it smelled like his mother’s perfume. Instead, Derek got him a sterling silver and blue Captain America shield gear shift head. Stiles had kissed him breathless over that one.

Arriving at Stiles’ house, they went inside. It really was his house now. His father had left him everything. It was even paid off, or would be, once he got the insurance payment. Derek told him he’d help get him through the mountains of paperwork that seemed to come with someone dying. There wasn’t time to mourn, wait until you signed a hundred forms, proving that you’re his kid and have the right to anything. Then you could afford to mourn.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” Stiles said and grabbed some clothes from his dresser before heading to the bathroom.

Derek knew how off his mate was because there had been no teasing eyes, no hip swinging, no jokes about joining him. As much as it bugged Stiles, Derek had been adamant about Stiles being out of school before they crossed that line. To Derek, it had been many years since he’d had sex and a few extra months didn’t matter at all when it was his mate that he was waiting for. To Stiles, it seemed hugely unfair. So he teased and teased until Derek would flash red eyes at him and tackle him, kissing him until they were both panting. Then Derek would wink at him, slip out the window and they’d both end the evening taking care of their problems alone. He guessed that now there was nothing holding them back, though he didn’t want Stiles to do it out of grief. If Stiles did push the issue, Derek would just get him off, saving the rest for a time when Stiles felt a bit more whole. He knew his mate felt utterly alone so he was determined to be around as much as possible.

Shucking his own clothes, Derek snagged the pajama pants Stiles had gotten him for Christmas the previous year. They had tiny little Deadpool’s on them which made Stiles giggle every time he saw Derek wearing it. Hopefully it would have that effect today.

He was just reclining on Stiles’ bed, reaching for one of the books he read when he stayed over, when Stiles came out. His mate’s eyes were red again; he’d been crying in the shower. Opening his arms was all he had to do. Stiles ran to him and sobbed against his neck. It hurt his heart to see his mate so broken.

“My Stiles, my own, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, kissing Stiles soft, wet hair, rubbing his hand up and down his back.

“I’m all alone now. What.. what.. What am I going to do?” Stiles hiccupped through his tears.

“You are not alone. You are going to let me take care of you. That’s all you need to do. I am here and I’m not going anywhere. I will never leave you, my own, never.”

Stiles shuddered against him and then sat back, kneeling between Derek’s spread legs. “Do you mean that?” He said, swiping at his eyes and wiping his hands on his pants.

“Of course I mean it,” Derek couldn’t imagine why he was asking this. Hadn’t he told Stiles that they were mates? That it meant eternal devotion on his part?

“Then Bite me. I’m ready. I know we were going to wait, but why? There is nothing holding me back now. I’m not going to college right away so I’ll have time to adjust to the change. And I’ll know that you really want me with you forever.” Stiles didn't care if he sounded manipulative. He wanted this, needed this. Needed Derek to take this step with him.

Stiles eyes were watery, but they stared at him steadily, no fear, no hesitation. He was serious about this. Derek had made a Study of Stiles and he knew when he meant things and when he was just messing around.

“You’re ready?” Derek said, just to make absolutely certain.

Stiles nodded. “I’ve thought about it a lot. You know me, I think about everything a lot. I’ve researched the Bite and what happens and how long it will take me to control the shift. I know about staying away from humans for at least a month while I gain control over myself. Since I have the house to myself, I could just stay here and then venture out to your house when you think I’m ready. I don’t have any friends outside the pack anymore, so there won’t be any visitors. Besides, it won’t matter if I move in with you now anyway. It’s just you and me.”

“And our pack. You know they all love you already, Stiles. They are excited to have you. You know Erica has a countdown going on the calendar. She’ll be excited to end it sooner than she thought,” Derek said, massaging Stiles' hands. He loved his mate's long fingers.

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles chuckled. “She’s going to kill me for having to get a new calendar without a countdown written on every day in red Sharpie. But that’s okay. Would Boyd be okay with me coming early?” He’d always been a bit unsure with the quiet, surly wolf.

“My Own, Boyd does like you, no matter how many times you ask me if he does or doesn’t. He thinks you are my perfect mate because you are louder and more verbal than I am,” Derek said with a rueful smile, rubbing his hand up and down Stiles chest.

“Like Boyd can talk about the not talking! The wolf hardly ever speaks,” Stiles said, taking Derek’s hand in his and twining their fingers together. “So, will you change me?”

“You only needed to ask, my Own. I just wanted to make sure you want to do it and won’t regret it once you are not drowning in grief. It really can’t be undone.”

Stiles nodded. “I’m sure I could find a way. I mean, this is me, we’re talking about,” he said and gave an Old Stiles grin of mischief.

“I’m sure you could. But let’s not go into this with that being the thought. I want you happy with your decision,” Derek said.

Stiles sat up and pulled Derek up. Or more, Derek let him. There is no way that Stiles had any strength to do anything with Derek if he didn’t want him to. Maybe that would change when he was a new wolf! He would finally be strong. No longer the pathetic weakling.

Putting both of his hands on Derek’s face, Stiles removed all humor from his face and looked into his mate’s eyes. “I want to be with you for all eternity. Being a wolf is going to make that possible. I get to be with you every day of my life. I get to have you as my mate in every sense of the word. My soul mate, my other half. My love. My Derek.” He knew it was the right decision when he saw Derek’s face soften with love and certainty. There was no more doubt in his mate now and this would bring about the change.

“Besides. Someday I’ll finally be strong enough to take you on. Right? Then you’ll be sorry you tickled me and carried me around when you were screwing with me,” Stiles said, putting his nose in the air.

“Yeah, right. First of all, yes, you will get stronger as you get older. But you forget I will also be getting stronger as I get older. So, the likelihood of you catching up with me is pretty low,” Derek said, tickling the chin tilted up in the air. Stiles was oddly ticklish there. Since he put his chin up so often when he wanted to play superior, Derek had a chance to get a screech, slap, and giggle.

Stiles screeched and slapped Derek on the arm, giggling at both the ticklish sensation and for having a chance to smack Derek. Not that he ever held back from smacking around his good-humored wolf. But being tickled gave him a really good reason. Because he kinda hated being tickled since he was incredibly ticklish. He would have to research what made one ticklish. Maybe he could figure out a way to make Derek more ticklish so he wouldn’t be the only one. Then again, if he could find a way to make his mate more ticklish, he may figure out the reverse way and make himself not ticklish at all. That would be amazing!

Derek, meanwhile, was narrowing his eyes on his mate. He had his ‘deep thinking’ expression on which usually ended in mischief.

“Mieczysław, what are you thinking?” Derek only broke out his birth name if he was really suspicious. Cue suspicion.

Those gorgeous honey eyes got wide and innocent. “Nothing, Derek, my sweet. Now when and where are we commencing with the Bite?”

“Uh huh. I’m watching you,” Derek said. He gave him a quick kiss just because. “Now, about the Bite. I think it would be a good idea to do it at my house. I think staying here would keep you prisoner and I have a feeling you could do with a change of scenery. Besides the pack house is in the Preserve which gives you a lot of space and freedom. I’d like to be able to show you the history of our land and our pack as you adjust to your new life.”

Stiles thought for a moment. Derek waited patiently, knowing his mate needed the time to sort through a riot of emotions and thoughts. He was the strongest person he’d ever met. Most saw Stiles and saw a spazzy teen who thought and talked too fast, flailed about, was silly and a class clown. Derek saw a scary but brilliant intelligence, a heart that loved to the very depths of his soul, a person who truly wanted to help people. A good person through and through.

Thinking about his childhood home, Stiles realized he really had nothing left here. If he stayed, all he would be faced with were memories of things that had been stolen from him. The bathroom that he and his dad had painted and re-tiled in shades of coral and sage for his mom when she was first getting sick to cheer her up. The hallway that still had family photos hung lovingly in handmade frames. The pictures were old. The last family pictures were taken when Stiles was ten, just months before she had gotten her diagnosis. Down the hall was the master bedroom. Once decorated in shades of cream and navy blue with hints of lilac, now done in shades of gray and brown. His dad hadn’t been able to live with the shadows of the happiness that Claudia had brought to his life and bedroom. It had to be erased or he wouldn’t make it.

Those were the days when his dad’s drinking became out of control. He would work double shifts and come home, drink and pass out and then wake up and do it all again. Stiles became his dad’s caretaker and his own parent. He cooked for his dad and insisted he eat if he was going to drink. There were many punishments for talking to his dad so bluntly about his drinking. But Stiles knew he had to keep it together or his dad would be taken from him too. Stiles knew what he could and couldn’t live without. Doing what he could to keep the load lighter on his dad, he kept the house clean and made sure to do his homework and went above and beyond to make his grades the best he could. Eventually his dad would check on him and Stiles wanted to be able to proudly show his grades and daily marks and get the praise he so desperately needed. That day didn’t come for several years.

The day of reckoning came when he begged his father to live and if not live, then let Stiles die too. John had been sent home and told to sober up after showing up to work still drunk on the whiskey he had imbibed the night before. They said they were doing him a favor in not booking him for drunk driving. So he came home. Instead of sleeping it off, John had grabbed the bottle, no longer bothering with any kind of glass. Stiles sat on the stairs watching, knowing his father would probably get fired if he went to work drunk again. What if this time, he didn’t make it to work? What if he wrapped his patrol car around a pole? What if he killed an innocent family, driving and going about their day?

Stiles, fourteen then, coltish limbs so damn clumsy, hormonal from another growth spurt, his stomach in knots, got up from those stairs and walked toward his father. Trembling, he turned the TV off and turned to his father and fell to his knees. He begged his father, hands clasped on his daddy’s knee, tears streaming down his young face, to please live. Don’t drown himself. Don’t leave him, please don’t leave him alone. He couldn’t live without his dad. If he was going to drive drunk again, please take him along so he didn’t have to live without him. 

That was what did it. John had looked at his only child and couldn’t remember the last time he’d been a parent to him. His baby boy was begging to be taken along if John was going to die on the road. His boy wanted to die with him. Unacceptable. John stood, and pulled Stiles up and walked to the kitchen. Together, they stood at the sink and dumped that bottle of whiskey down the drain. Then, still together, they emptied every other bottle of liquor and beer until the house was as dry as John would soon be. He took two weeks off work and gritted his teeth as his body rejected the alcohol and then rejected the absence of the same. Stiles helped his father, washing out his sick bucket and wiping his sweaty face with a cool cloth. At the end of the first week, the worst was over. John hugged Stiles for five straight minutes and Stiles soaked it up like a flower under the spring sun.

They spent that second week reconnecting. John looked at every report card he’d missed, praising his young son for all his hard work, watching as Stiles glowed from the rare words. Stiles was free to be the kid again and he was. He was quick to return to the mischievous child John knew him to be. He was grounded less than a month later for screwing around and Stiles grinned the entire three days he was grounded. John heard him on the phone that night with Scott saying his dad was staying home with him because he was grounded. Instead of whining and complaining like a normal kid, Stiles celebrated that his father gave a shit again.

Seeing the bottom step of the staircase always made him smile because it was sitting there that brought his dad back to him.

Yeah. Too many memories. It was time to move on. Because no amount of sitting on the step or begging would get his father back this time.

“I’m going to pack,” Stiles said, quiet and weighed down by memories that were all he had left. As he stood, though, he suddenly turned and threw himself in Derek’s waiting arms. “Please don’t leave me. Ever. And if you do, please take me with you.” He lost it then, the weight too much.

Derek blinked back tears. His mate wasn’t worried about being left as in Derek finding someone else or not wanting him anymore. His mate couldn’t handle one more person dying on him. “I will never leave you,” Derek swore, his eyes alpha red with promise. “You will never hurt like this again, my mate. I will make you happy again.”

“Just love me,” Stiles pleaded.

“I do love you, my own. I do love you. Yesterday, today, tomorrow and always. I will never stop,” Derek swore.

When Stiles felt ready, he pulled back, swiped at his face and turned with a sharp nod. The two worked quickly to pack Stiles’ clothes and the belongings he wanted to take with him for now. Books, laptop, comics, a picture of him and Scott, a couple of his parents and one family photo. Derek went and began loading his car and Stiles’ Jeep while Stiles emptied the fridge. He didn’t want to come back to a rotten smelling house. He grabbed his father’s important information from the family safe and with that, he was done. He was moving out of his childhood home and in with his mate. That made the leaving bearable. He’d been waiting for almost two years to make this move and he would do so with a smile. There had been enough crying for the day. It was time to look forward. Seeing Derek in front of him, he had to admit the view looking forward was pretty damn fine.


	2. Chapter 2

The door of Derek’s big house was open and the pack was already spilling out by the time they pulled in. Derek insisted it was just a house though to most people it was a freaking mansion. What else would you call a seven and a half thousand square foot, six bedroom, five and a half baths Craftsman style mansion that also had a six car garage, an apartment over the garage where Erica and Boyd lived, a freaking basketball court - the pack loved to play and got violently competitive - and a swimming pool. Then you get into the details of the house. A vaulted living room that could see up into the library, a sun room, breakfast nook, a formal living and dining room that actually fit them all, a game room. The bottom floor was open concept with a huge kitchen complete with granite everything and stainless appliances.

There were two bedrooms downstairs, belonging to Laura and her mate Milo, and Cora and Kyra who had never needed to share a room, but were so close, they never chose otherwise. Upstairs was the library, and four more bedrooms belonging to Peter, Isaac, and the baby of the family, Liam; with the master suite being Derek’s as the Alpha. There was also a gym that connected to the house via a glassed in walkway. Wouldn’t want to get cold when you went to workout. The space was just right though.

It was so big, a pack member could actually be alone in a part of the house and the rest could be loud and they wouldn’t be disturbed. It was a lot of fun. Especially because Laura was anal about keeping the hardwood floors polished and Stiles had perfected sock skating. He and Isaac liked to race down the hallways. He also learned how to duck and skate because Cora and Erica liked to hide in doorways and try to clothesline them if they weren’t careful.

But yeah, it was just a house. Uh huh. Stiles’ eyes would roll out of his head if they could he put so much power into the eye roll when Derek claimed it was a modest family home. Right. But the way it got that big was a sad event not often spoken of.

The Hale matriarch, Talia, and the patriarch, Asher, were killed in a car crash that Stiles and his dad were certain was a hit. How else were two alpha werewolves beheaded in a car wreck? It was suspected they were taken out by a rival wolf pack or a band of hunters. Both were under suspicion, but there was so little left of the car and surrounding area and the victims to point a finger at anyone. Stiles knew Milo, Laura’s husband, mate, and a lawyer was still looking into the case. Stiles helped when Milo let him. Now that he was done with high school he might be able to help more until he started college. Milo was awesome. He may be a lawyer, but he was so much fun to hang out with. He was a total jokester and a crackup compared to his staid mate Laura. They’d been married for probably 60 some years and Milo had taken the Bite around that time. While he had excellent control and never had an emotional shift, he still had trouble connecting with his wolf enough to have a full shift. He considered it a work in progress. He was fiercely devoted to his family and had taken on their parents’ case, doing everything he could to find out the truth. Stiles felt sorry for whoever it was because with the physical might of Derek and the brain might of Milo (and Stiles!), the person or people would have a world of hurt in store for them.

Derek’s whole family was just as cool as Milo, happy to include and involve Stiles seamlessly into their lives. He was good friends with Erica, Cora and Isaac as they were all near the same age. Kyra Hale was a year younger than them. She had been adopted into the family when she was thirteen and came into her kitsune abilities. Her birth family considered her a freak of nature and put her immediately up for adoption, signing over their rights too easily. The Hales snatched her up, proud to have such a beautiful kitsune in the family. She made the choice to drop her birth surname and was proud to call herself a Hale. She was a badass at sports and was on as many teams as they could safely let her be on. The other adoptee was Liam. He was a freshman now but was adopted into the family when he was eight. He was bitten by a rogue wolf near his birth family’s home in Oregon. He dealt with a lot of anger and misunderstandings and his parents eventually ended up admitting defeat. They let the Hales foster him, but over time, they discovered they just weren’t the same people and after two years, they agreed to let the Hales adopt him.

When the Hale parents died, the children had inherited a lot of money. Like a lot. Like seven, maybe even eight digits. He had tried to find out but it made Derek uncomfortable so instead he just teased him about his few extravagant purchases. They’d had the house remodeled and added on to and you couldn’t even tell where the old house ended and the new began, the work was so seamless. But Derek and Laura had agreed they wanted the entire pack together and for it to be big enough to house spouses. Children would fit for a while, but then they would just build an additional family house on the hundred or so acres they had.

“Stiles!” Erica came running at him from the porch and he braced himself knowing this was going to hurt. Instead of plowing into him like he expected, she skidded to a stop in front of him. She peered into his eyes, her brown eyes uncharacteristically worried. “Batman okay?”

He gave her a half smile. “Batman’s okay. How about you, Catwoman?”

“Are you kidding? My best friend’s moving in today!” She smacked him on the shoulder and there was the pain he’d been expecting. “Come on, let’s get your shit in there!”

Before he could turn back to grab a load, the entire household was there, alternately hugging him and grabbing him and staring him down like his face was going to tell them how he was. He must have convinced most of them he was okay because they all turned to help bring in Stiles’ stuff.

But Laura took a look at him, her light green eyes, nearly identical to her twin’s, were watery. “I wish you didn’t have to know this pain, Stiles. I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.” Laura was a counselor. Although her reading your every mood could get annoying, she was a damn good listener.

Stiles swallowed hard so he didn’t tear up. “I’m okay right now. And that’s good enough,” he said.

Laura nodded. “I’m proud of you. I’m glad you can see that. Let’s get you some spaghetti. I made it with extra-large meatballs just like you like it.”

Stiles eyes lit up. Laura made damn good spaghetti, even making her own sauce from scratch. He turned back to see if any more help was needed and saw everything had already been grabbed. He shrugged. If they were going to help, he was going to go feed his face. Stiles hadn’t been eating a lot lately and he knew it worried Derek. His sweet mate would be downright excited to see Stiles eat his way through three or four plates of spaghetti and meatballs.

They made their way into the pack house and Stile stopped in the foyer and looked around. The dark wood typical of a Craftsman home could make the house appear really dark. But with the number of windows and artwork scattered everywhere, it was just a warm, relaxing place to be. Even if it did echo. Stiles kicked off his shoes and put them in his cubby in the extra wide closet. Yep, his cubby. It was like kindergarten all over. But with that many shoes, it made sense and Laura had somehow made it look decorative, even with it being in the closet.

The view from the front door was amazing. You could see the living room off to the right and the kitchen and dining room to the left. Straight ahead were the hallway to the bedrooms and bathrooms and the stairs going up to the second level. Directly overhead was the coolest swirly, industrial style black metal chandelier with old fashioned looking lightbulbs. It was a bitch to clean. Stiles knew that from experience. He and Isaac had been playing with a hackey sack and during a most impressive flail kick, Stiles had gotten it lodged in the chandelier. His punishment was to not only get the hackey sack back but to clean it while he was up there. They didn’t play with the hackey sack in there again. Laura was very, very particular about how things were cleaned. And cleaned again if not done right.

From the door, you could also see up to the landing of the upstairs library. Seeing all the bookcases always made Stiles happy and that was the place he could most often be found if he wasn’t with Derek or Isaac. There was this super soft and cuddly couch that was apparently built for giants, it was so deep and tall. He and Derek could lay down on it together and nap without having to have one of them at either end.

Seeing this familiar place, smelling the wood and polish that was used so frequently, hearing the familiar voices, he knew this was the right decision. Staying at his house would have been like living in a tomb until he, too, was nothing but a dead thing.

With a sense of peace, he set off to the kitchen to eat his weight in spaghetti and meatballs.

When the family was sitting around the table, Laura held up her wine glass. They all had some. Alcohol didn’t have as much of an effect as it did on humans, but they could feel the warmth and most enjoyed the taste. Stiles knew he was a light weight and always kept to a one glass maximum unless he wanted to get buzzed.

“To Stiles. Welcome home, little brother,” she said simply.

“Welcome home,” the family repeated.

Derek leaned over to him and kissed his cheek. “Welcome home, my Own.”

“Thank you,” Stiles said, a blush warming his cheeks as he smiled and made eye contact with each family member. “It’s good to be home.”

“Another reason to celebrate,” Derek announced. “Stiles has asked for the Bite and we will be doing it tonight.”

This time a cheer went up. They all knew he wanted to join the pack as a wolf, and it had only been a matter of time. His father had even given his blessing. It was the last time they’d all eaten here together, as a matter of fact. John had been thinking about his own decision. He hadn’t come to a final decision, but had known he was welcome to join the family.

“I’ll ready a cooler for you,” Peter offered from his seat on Derek’s left. He had been through many Bites and knew that the Alpha would need to be with the new wolf for the first hours after receiving it and the first hours of waking. With it being the Alpha’s mate, they would just lock themselves in and not come out until it was time for Stiles to take his first run.

“Thank you, Uncle,” Derek said, smiling at him gratefully. His uncle had really stepped up after his parents died to be a mentor to Derek as he adjusted to his alpha powers. His uncle had always been meant to be the pack’s Left Hand, the protector of the pack and he took the position seriously. Now he was also a mentor and an advisor.

“As a precaution for those who either weren’t here when Erica joined us or have forgotten,” Derek said, drawing the family’s attention to him. “The security locks will be on and in place until I release them when Stiles is ready for his first run. Remember this is to make sure a new wolf pup doesn’t get ahead of himself. He must be watched over at all times. This is not a slight against the pup, but a way to protect both him and the people around him. The first burst of energy after receiving the Bite is intoxicating and can lead a pup to act outside their own normal senses. If you don’t want to be in the house stuck for possibly twelve or more hours, Erica and Boyd have welcomed you to join them in their apartment and there is always the gym,” Derek said.

Stiles was listening closely and noticed Liam and Kyra were also paying close attention. He knew Liam had been here for Erica’s Bite, but he was older now and was trying to be more than a pup to the pack. Liam wanted to eventually have an official position and that meant listening and learning everything there was to know.

“I will be staying with the Alpha mates,” Peter announced. This was no surprise as he would be the secondary guard over Stiles.

“Same here,” Laura said. She wasn’t expected to as Derek’s Right hand, the pack member who dealt with pack relations and allies and treaties and the like. But being Derek’s twin, she was feeling protective of him and Stiles.

Milo frowned. “I’m sorry, Stiles, I can’t. I am on call with this latest case and can’t afford to run the risk of having to miss a meeting.”

Stiles waved at him. “This was last minute, dude, I have no expectations of anyone. Neither do I take offense to those who can’t or don’t want to possibly get stuck here for an extended period of time.”

With that comment, all the younger wolves, Erica, Boyd, Kyra, Cora, Liam and Isaac all chose to go hang out in the apartment over the garage. Milo would camp out at the gym that had a small rec room with couches that could pull out into beds. Stiles knew for a fact that the rec room was also the proverbial doghouse and knew Milo had done his fair share of time on those couches. He’d brought the man dinner a couple of times when he and his hotheaded wife got in another fight. Milo had proceeded to let his new little brother know that the making up made it all worth it. Stiles, already seeing Laura as a sister, turned green and ran out to the sound of Milo’s laughter.

When dinner was over, Stiles insisted on helping with cleaning up, but was shooed away by Laura saying it was Kyra and Cora’s night to do the cleaning up anyway. She’d assured him he would be added to the cleaning rota and would have his time. That made him feel more like a part of the family than the toast had and he’d given her a spontaneous hug before hurrying upstairs after his mate. Hearing Derek talking to Peter in the library, he decided to head to the master suite to unpack some of his stuff and take a shower.

Getting out of the shower took a while because the shower was a thing of the gods. Four shower heads, a mister, a rain option, not to mention being able to sit in there and be steamed. But he was squeaky clean and ready to not be a human anymore. Derek was there by that time, having made the announcement and putting the house under lockdown. The security locks that were only used during a Biting could only be unlocked with his fingerprint. This was standard in most pack houses, thanks in large part to the talks Talia Hale used to give. She encouraged packs to not only protect themselves but the people in the surrounding houses and cities. They couldn’t fully get rid of the purists until there was zero threat against humans. This was one way to do that. The woman was amazing to listen to. Stiles had watched videos of her speeches and she was mesmerizing. She caught your attention, taught you, and made you think you and she had come up with the idea together. Brilliant.

Derek was unloading a small cooler into the mini fridge Derek had in his closet. Stiles hadn’t noticed a fridge before.

“Where did that come from?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and then grinning when Derek’s ears turned red. His mate was one hunk of adorableness, especially when caught doing something extra sweet and loving.

“I got it for your turning,” Derek admitted with a sigh. He’d let Stiles get the teasing out of the way and get it over with. Otherwise he’d hear about it until he ‘fessed up.

Stiles wanted to tease but he couldn’t. He walked up to his mate and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for taking such good care of me, Alpha.” He knew Derek loved to be called Alpha, only topping that was ‘mate’. But when he was caretaking, Alpha made him feel the best.

“You are welcome, my Own,” Derek replied, his voice a low rumble. He winked red eyes at him and grinned at Stiles blush. He loved flirting with his mate. It got him blushing every time. “I’m going to pop into the shower and then we’ll talk a bit before we get down to business.”

Stiles swallowed and nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

With one more kiss, Derek went into the bathroom and Stiles busied himself with unpacking more of his clothes and putting his laptop on its charger. He dug out the three books he was currently reading and put them on his nightstand. His nightstand. This amazing master suite was his room now. The space was huge and included a window seat, sitting area, two desks and still had room for a California King bed that was a mahogany four poster. The windows in the room were large, nearly floor to ceiling to allow the most amount of natural light in. One side was floor to ceiling, a sliding glass door leading to a private balcony. He and Derek had snuggled on the chaise out there many times, talking about their future.

Finally done, Stiles sat on the bed, knees up to his chest. He wasn’t scared of the Bite, exactly. The pain aspect wasn’t something he looked forward to, but he knew that pain in exchange for centuries of life with his mate, he could deal with it. His anxiety over the bite came from, surprise, anxiety. He had this fear that the Bite wouldn’t work and that he’d be the only one in the history of humans taking the Bite that would still be human after. That he wouldn’t have a wolf inside him, that he would lose Derek in the end. Could the Alpha have a mate that wasn’t a wolf?

“You look like you are full of serious thoughts, my Own,” Derek said, making him jump and glare at him.

“I swear I’m going to get you a bell,” Stiles grumbled.

Derek grinned, climbing on the bed sitting against the leather headboard. He slid his folded-up mate over to him before picking him up too easily and straddling him over his lap. Typically, Stiles would start waggling his eyebrows with their position, but Derek could tell that wouldn’t happen this time. “Talk to me.”

As usual, Stiles took a moment to get his thoughts in order. “Please don’t laugh at me, but answer this question as honestly and seriously as you can, okay?”

Derek’s stomach knotted and he nodded. “Of course, Stiles.”

His mate looked down and then looked up, eyes sparkling with tears. Derek gave a low whine, his wolf and he both hating the sadness and fear that was emanating from their mate. He reached up and cupped Stiles’ cheek. “My Own, please, let me ease your mind.

“Is there any chance, any history, even once, of the Bite not resulting in a new wolf?” Stiles asked, his face shuttered as he awaited Derek’s response. His mate looked confused, so he spit out his fear “Like the person still being human after getting the Bite?”

Derek cocked his head. “Is that what you’re afraid of?” He then saw his mate’s mind was going to go nuts, so he answered clearly. “No, there is zero history of someone remaining human after receiving the Bite. I promise you that. Would you like me to call Deaton? He can ease your mind further,” Derek offered. The pack emissary would probably give a nice long lecture on werewolf history too just because the man could be longwinded, but that was just Deaton. The two hadn’t met yet, that would happen typically after the Bite when Stiles was an official member of the pack, but he had no problem doing it now.

“No, I trust you,” Stiles said, blushing now and looking down.

“None of that,” Derek said, raising his chin. “You are smart to ask any and all questions you have before doing something this life altering. Especially if it is causing you anxiety.” Carefully, he leaned Stiles toward him and kissed his mate’s plush lips several times before Stiles started to respond. He could easily lose himself in his young mate, but that wasn’t what this night was for. That would hopefully come soon though; they were both done waiting. One last swipe of his tongue over Stiles’ lips to cement his taste on Derek’s tongue and he sat back. His mate’s whiskey gold eyes were hooded and warm. That was how Stiles should look twenty-four seven. “Now, my Own, tell me what is about to happen in your own words.”

Stiles hummed, still feeling the heat of Derek’s mouth against his. “You are going to give me the Bite. It will be in my neck because I am your mate, though it is usually given in the wrist or arm. It will feel good at first but then it will start hurting as the wolf in my spirit wakes up. Then I will sleep, up to ten or twelve hours.”

Derek knew having him explain it like this was the right thing. His intelligent mate was in fine form, his eyes bright with the new knowledge and excitement of beginning his new life.

“When I wake, I will be a bit out of control from the new energy and strength in me. When you bite me a second time, it is to bring me under your Alpha-ship, like when you bring a wolf into the pack from another pack. Then you will take me out to run. I will only be able to access my Beta form for the first six months to year, possibly longer. However long it takes for my wolf to mature. It will hurt the first few times of shifting even into Beta form because the bones in the forehead, cheekbones and jaw move as well as the forming of claws and fangs.” Stiles went silent for a moment making sure he’d covered everything. “Oh, and the second bite to bring me under you as Alpha will also open me up to the scent and feelings of the pack.”

Derek grinned at him. “You never fail to impress me, Mate. You could teach a class on this,” he said, then his eyebrows went up. Now he was impressed with himself. “In fact, you are now in charge of teaching the History and Process of the Wolf Bite class for the pack and surrounding territories. Laura will appreciate the help.”

Stiles’ eyes went wide. “Really? You’d trust me to do that? I mean I totally can! I can make worksheets and a PowerPoint presentation. Oh! Can I give homework?”

Derek laughed and threw his mate sideways onto the bed before prowling up his body.

“Ooh! What about detention?” Stiles asked, chuckling as Derek shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Aw, come on! Instead of a dunce cap, they have to wear a little headband with wolf ears on it,” Stiles said with a snort.

“I love you, Mieczysław Stilinski,” Derek said, smiling down into the sparkling honey eyes below him.

“That’s Stilinski-Hale, Mister,” Stiles announced.

Derek froze, his eyes wide. “What?”

“Well, being your mate and getting the Bite, it’s way more serious than marriage. Dad and I had already talked about it. I have cousins who can name all their spawn Stilinski, so while I’ll legally be a hyphen snob, I’ll be Stiles Hale in normal life. What’s a last name when I’m changing my species for the love of my life?” Stiles said, his voice going quiet and sincere.

“I am honored to be your mate, Stiles Hale,” Derek said, his voice breaking. “I will love you every day of forever and even after that.”

“Even after that,” Stiles swore back.

“I’m going to kiss you. Then I’m going to give you the Bite. Are you ready, my Own?” Derek stroked his fingers up and down Stiles’ soft skin.

“I was born ready,” Stiles said, no humor in his words.

“As was I,” Derek whispered.

With that, Derek kissed his human mate for the last time. Their next kiss would be as wolf mates. He stroked Stiles’ lips with his own before sliding his tongue into Stiles’ waiting mouth. With long drugging sweeps, he teased and tormented Stiles until his mate was undulating under him. Derek left his mouth, kissing down his cheek to the edge of his jaw where he gave a little nip causing Stiles to take a gasping breath. His mate was sensitive to every movement, both of their blood alive and on fire. Kissing and licking down that long neck, he found the place where he would bite and began suckling softly.

“Der… oh god, Derek,” Stiles moaned, his voice rough and needy. He wrapped his hands behind Derek’s head and pushed him harder into his throat. “More.”

Derek growled low and deep, the vibrations traveling through his mouth into Stiles’ sensitive skin. Derek opened his mouth and licked and sucked at his chosen spot. “My Own,” was all he could get out before he released his wolf. His fangs came down, his eyes going red. With a fierce growl, he called forth the spirit in his Alpha blood and bit down into Stiles neck, pushing that spirit into his mate.

Stiles cried out, the feel of those long fangs entering his flesh was as painful as it was a huge turn on. He felt Derek suck on his neck for a moment, taking his blood into him. That was a wolf turn on, he knew and enjoyed it just as much. His brain was slowing, and he knew he was on the way out. He blindly wondered if he would like to the taste of Derek’s blood. “Love you,” he whispered as the world went dark on him.

Derek pulled back after licking the bite wounds, unable to deny how much he loved seeing his mark there. “I love you,” he replied. Leaning up, he frowned seeing Stiles so still. He couldn’t have gone into his sleep already, could he? “Stiles?” That frenetic heartbeat of his mate’s was still strong, the sound as familiar as his own breath. Stiles was breathing fine, if a bit faster than was normal for him. Had he really slipped into the sleep that fast? Not wanting to leave his mate to retrieve his phone from his desk, he shouted for the one person who could help him in that moment.

“Peter!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!! 
> 
> Happy holidays to those who celebrate!!! Happy weekend regardless!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting an extra chapter because I don't know where I'll be next Friday, so in case, I miss the date, here you go! This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoy it!

Derek had given Peter a key to the master suite when they first decided on bedrooms so he knew his uncle could let himself in. Sitting next to his mate, Derek kept a hand on his chest, trying to monitor everything. His scent was its normal paper, ink, sunshine, smell. Maybe a bit more lush? Could it really happen that fast?

The door opened. “Derek, what is it?” Peter’s eyes were glowing and bright blue, the color of a wolf who had done more than what was asked of him more times than he should have been asked to do them.

“It’s Stiles. I gave him the Bite and almost immediately, he was asleep. His heart and breathing are normal. I’ve never heard of it taking effect that quickly. Have you?” Derek kept his eyes on Stiles, though his tone conveyed his worry to his uncle.

“May I approach, Alpha?” Peter was taking no chances in irritating an alpha werewolf when their mate was in a vulnerable state.

“Please,” Derek responded, sparing a quick look at his uncle.

Peter’s eyes went back to their normal blue, his heart aching for the scared look in his nephew’s eyes. He slowly approached the bed and saw Stiles, looking like he was simply napping. “Was he in a lot of pain? Could he have passed out from it?”

Derek frowned and shook his head. “He didn’t even give any indication it was hurting. I bit, he cried out, said he loved me and that was it.”

Peter joined in on the frowning. That was definitely different. He took in a big inhale of Stiles’ scent and reared back.

Derek’s eyes caught the movement. “You smell it already too, don’t you? Like the change is already happening.”

Nodding, Peter looked confused and grim. He didn’t like different, that could mean problems and he _would_ see his nephew happy as he deserved after all the heartache he had been through. Even if that meant battling the supernatural forces by himself. “He definitely smells more wolf-like. More natural, but still with the paper and ink that I’m used to him smelling like.”

“What should I do?” Derek looked at his uncle, pleading with his eyes for his uncle to make this better.

Giving it a moment’s thought, Peter sighed. “I think the only thing you can do is keep an eye on him. As long as he is sleeping soundly and his heart and respiration are in the normal range, I would leave him be. Maybe he just gave into it easier than we are used to seeing. He knew what was coming, maybe more than most, and he just let it happen.”

Derek nodded. “You’re right. That does sound like something he would be capable of. Thank you, Uncle Peter.”

“Of course. If you need anything else, just let me know,” his uncle said, relieved to see Derek looking lighter.

“If you could throw me my cell phone from the desk as you leave, that would be great. I want to be able to call in Deaton if need be,” Derek said, turning his attention fully to Stiles.

“Of course,” Peter repeated. He tossed his nephew the phone and left, locking the door behind him. Giving a glance

Derek got comfortable and rested as much as he could while keeping an alert eye and ear on Stiles’ vitals. His mate was a ball of energy without being a wolf, he could only imagine how much energy he would have once he had a wolf of his own. Derek would need to be able to keep up. What a beauty he would be too. Derek and his wolf pictured a wolf with Stiles’ coloring. A sable coat maybe and those mesmerizing honey eyes of his. Beautiful. One day when their wolves ran together, Derek knew they would mate in that form. He’d never done that before, it was something kept sacred between mates, and his wolf was intrigued with the idea. He grinned as his wolf immediately pictured the event, the two wolves wrestling for dominance and Stiles’ wolf not giving in right away, making Derek’s wolf work for it. As it should be. His wolf hoped Stiles’ wouldn’t submit too easily, that would take all the fun out of the chase.

Four hours later, the half-moon was clear in the large window. Derek was taking a sip of water from the bottle on his nightstand when Stiles heartbeat changed for the first time. It quickened and with it, Stiles’ scent became less human and more animal.

Grinning, Derek sat up. It had happened. Stiles’ wolf was there, coming to life in his spirit self. Reaching inside to his own wolf, he let it come to the fore to really get a good sense of his mate’s new scent. Eyes red, they stared at Stiles and could swear they saw a wolf under his form, hazy like a ghost. Was this something mates could see? Blinking away the red eyes, Stiles was just himself again. Bringing the wolf back, he saw it again, a wolf, curled up and sleeping. It looked similar to the specter they saw when they took pictures of Kira when she was in her kitsune power. Why did his parents never tell him?

Still pondering this new aspect to his senses, his thoughts were interrupted by a rumble coming from Stiles.

Derek’s eyes went sharp on his mate. Stiles still had his eyes closed, but he was growling low in his chest. Derek’s groin tingled. Who knew that Stiles growling could be a turn on?

The sound continued for several minutes before being cut off by a snort, which morphed into a throat clearing cough.

Derek actually jumped when Stiles started talking.

“Why did nobody warn me that growling made your throat so dry,” he drawled, his eyes still closed.

“Stiles?” Derek had no idea if he was talking in his sleep or not. It had only been four hours, there was no way he was ready to wake up yet.

“That’s my name, wolf daddy.” A small smile lifted the side of his mouth.

“My Own, are you awake?” Derek was up and leaning over him, totally flustered and confused.

A honey eye peeped at him. “I love it when you call me your own. Did you know that?”

“Well.. Um.. Okay, yes. I can smell how much you like it,” Derek finally said. What the hell was going on?

“Kinky,” Stiles grinned. “I’m fine, Alpha. Put away the Defcon five eyebrows.”

Derek rolled his eyes with a grin. Stiles always teased him about his eyebrows saying they could hold entire conversations just by the way Derek held his eyebrows. When he was upset, Stiles would use the Defcon system to determine how upset he was.

“How are you feeling?” Derek asked, seeing Stiles finally open his eyes fully.

Stiles closed his eyes and considered his answer. How did he feel? He felt physically rested, his neck was a bit achy. Deep inside him, though, he knew he wasn’t alone anymore. It worked. He’d gotten his wolf. What do you look like, he asked the wolf. Suddenly he saw him. Mostly a rich mocha brown with shots of cream around his paws and muzzle. A gorgeous creature with golden eyes, glowing. There you are, Stiles greeted him. I am so honored to have you. His wolf sat up and stretched. Next to his wolf, he thought he saw something else, a 'something' that was also waking up and stretching. Maybe it was just another version of him that he was seeing.

Derek gasped when he saw Stiles open his glowing golden eyes.

A serene smile graced his lips. “I feel whole,” Stiles finally answered.

“You are a miracle,” Derek breathed in awe. He had no idea how this was happening, but he swore Stiles had almost shifted just then. “I need to give you the pack bite, my Own, are you ready?”

“Please, Alpha,” Stiles answered, instinctively baring the side of neck opposite of the first bite.

Derek growled low. The submission to Derek’s alpha wolf was intoxicating. With a snap forward, his fangs bit deep and he welcomed Stiles’ wolf to the pack.

Stiles gasped as it felt like he was suddenly tethered. He was part of a pack now. They would never be alone again. He and his wolf had a family now. A tear streaked down his face. “Thank you, Alpha,” he whispered.

Derek smiled, his heart so full of love for his mate. “It is my honor to welcome you to the pack, Stiles Hale. You are mine and you are ours and we are yours.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Stiles opened his eyes, still glowing golden. “I am yours.”

“My Own,” Derek growled and kissed his mate, moaning at the lush taste of wolf that now accompanied Stiles’ natural flavor. “You are delicious.”

Stiles rumbled for him, almost a purr. Though Derek would never tell Stiles that.

Moving to the edge of the bed, Derek kept a hand on his mate. “Why don’t you sit up, see how you feel. The energy should be flowing now, so make sure to try and harness that and stay next to me,” Derek warned. He didn’t know when or if Stiles would rush off. Hopefully his mate would be able to listen to him.

Stiles sat up and stretched, popping his neck side to side. He frowned. “I feel strong, like I could run the entire length of the property, but I don’t feel over energized or out of control. Is that bad?”

Would Stiles ever be normal? When would Derek stop expecting Stiles to be normal? Stiles always exceeded expectation; he should be used to that by now.

“It is not bad, not at all. It’s a good thing. I’d rather have you in control than running all over the forest like a maniac,” Derek gave him a warm smile. He kept a hand on Stiles, liking the tether to his mate.

“How long did I sleep?” Stiles took the bottle of water Derek offered him and drained it in three long swallows. “Got more?”

Derek measured Stiles' calm and felt it was okay to get up and go to the fridge. “Only four hours. A record as far as I know. Hungry?”

Stiles rumbled again. “Got any meat? I set a record huh? I surprise even myself sometimes,” he said with a wide grin. His eyes were wildly taking in the room around him, pausing on everything to check it out. “And what is with the colors? Everything is so vibrant and bright and in your face with color. I can’t wait to see outside!” But he could already see outside, though it was like looking through sunglasses during the day. He didn't know if it would be different once he was out there, but he knew he would no longer stumble around in the dark.

Pulling out a plastic bowl of sausage and cheese and two bottles of water, Derek climbed back onto the bed. “You’ll adjust to the colors. And when we get outside it’ll be even more of a shock.” He watched Stiles growl low as he demolished the bowl of meat in two minutes before draining another bottle of water. He had no idea if he’d heard anything he just said.

“Gotta pee,” his mate suddenly announced and leapt off the bed in a move quite graceful for his usually klutzy mate. The bathroom door slammed shut and Derek grabbed his phone and texted Peter that Stiles was awake and seemed to be acting like someone who has been a wolf for years. He also warned him he would be taking Stiles out for a run after he got out of the bathroom.

Stripping quickly, he pulled on the worn sweatpants he used when he was going to run beta. He then dug out a pair for Stiles too. He liked the thought of his mate smelling of him as they ran together for the first time.

The toilet flushed and water ran and then Stiles was stepping out. Nude.

“Ah, good, you have some pants for me. I couldn’t wear those clothes anymore. I’m feeling itchy,” Stiles said, casually coming over and grabbing the pants.

Derek, meanwhile, was trying to control himself. He’d never seen Stiles fully nude before. There had been some touching and handjobs inside the pants, but no full-on nudity. Stiles was stunning. Creamy yet tan skin dotted with delicious moles from head to toe. He was deceptively muscular, a fact he kept hidden in his loose t-shirts and baggy plaids. But his biceps were well developed and his abs, Derek wanted to set up camp and lick the firm planes. He wasn’t ripped with a six pack - yet - but he was strong and the burgeoning strength and animal grace was calling to Derek like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

“You are glorious,” Derek growled out, his fangs tingling in his mouth. His wolf wanted to get his claws into his mate.

Stiles stopped as he reached for the pants. A shy grin brought along a blush that reached low on his chest. Derek was enjoying the light chest hair thickening down his abdomen and was a curly nest at the base of his long and rather thick cock. Derek was impressed. He’d touched that cock but had never seen it like this.

“You look like you want to eat me,” Stiles said, a bit taken aback by the naked hunger in Derek’s glowing red eyes.

“Oh, I would definitely like a taste,” Derek rasped. He swallowed the hunger. Tonight was not the night. “Would you like to run with me?”

Stiles slipped into the sweatpants and bobbed his head. “Hell yeah! Let’s get our wolf on!”

“You are a goofball,” Derek said with a roll of his eyes and grin. He offered Stiles his hand and the two walked to the door. “Peter is going to be in the hallway, don’t be startled if he is in beta. He’s just being protective over both of us.” He’d heard his uncle move into the walkway after getting Derek’s text.

“Okey dokey,” Stiles said easily.

“You are handling this really well, Stiles,” Derek had to tell him. “I’m proud of you.”

Stiles flushed again, pleased. “Thanks, Alpha. That means a lot.”

They left the bedroom and Stiles waved at Uncle Peter.

Peter inclined his head with a slight tilt to the side. “Welcome to the pack, Alpha Mate.”

“Thank you, Left Hand,” Stiles acknowledged. How did he know to say that?

Derek even looked startled. He shook his head. “Uncle, Stiles has decided to jump ahead a few months in his wolf development. He keeps surprising me, though I shouldn’t be. He has always been exceptional.”

As a group they walked downstairs where Laura was standing. Again, she inclined her head and welcomed him and he acknowledged her as the Right Hand. This was weird. It was like his wolf had come with a computer and was already downloading all this knowledge about wolf culture. Laura looked taken aback and then she grinned wide, her eyes glowing gold at him.

Reaching the back door without incident, Derek used his fingerprint and a code to open the door and disengage the lock system. “Laura, would you let everyone know the lockdown is over. But Stiles and I will be running alone. Peter will be within howling distance if assistance is needed.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Laura answered. The twins were hardly ever formal with each other, but this was a special occasion, one that would be a beautiful memory for all of them.

The moment the door opened, Stiles finally understood. He got why the wolves loved running under the light of the moon and stars. It was different than seeing it from the bedroom. He now had built in night vision. But better because even though he knew it was night, he could still see the lush green of the grass and the deep brown of the tree trunks. He could see further than he’d ever seen before and see tiny details. Like he could see about six feet away from him there was an ant crawling on a blade of grass. How did wolves get anything done with so much to look at? He got it now though, the whole wolf thing. He understood nature. He could feel his wolf stretching beneath his skin, eager to experience it for himself. And the smells! There were so many to take in, he just stood there, toes flexing in the grass, smelling the sweet air. He could smell the grass, the leaves on the maple trees and the stringent smell of the evergreen trees in the nearby forest. There was a mole somewhere nearby. He didn’t know how he recognized the smell, but he did. Deer weren’t too far away either, their scent slightly prey-like, making his mouth water. The wind was sweet, tempting him to run.

“Stiles,” Derek said, squeezing his hand. “Are you listening?”

“Sorry,” Stiles said with a sheepish grin, finally opening his eyes. “So many smells and things to look at!”

Derek returned the smile, understanding. Though he’d been born with a strong sense of smell since he was a born wolf, he knew the difference between his human senses and his wolf senses. The difference was vast. It would only be amplified for a turned human. “Are you ready to try shifting to beta?”

“Let’s do it!” Stiles said, bouncing on his toes. “Yoda me up, wolf man!”

Derek chuckled. Here was the energy he had been waiting for. Now for the shifting part. He could only hope Stiles took to it like he was taking to everything else. He was a natural so far. But he wouldn’t say anything yet because if Stiles had troubles, he didn’t want him questioning anything.

He put his hands on Stiles’ shoulders to still him and anchor him to his Alpha. “Settle,” he commanded and immediately, Stiles was quiet under his hands. “Now, can you feel your wolf inside you?”

“Yes,” Stiles whispered, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he connected to the animal inside. He was stretching his forelegs and reaching his claws out, wanting to paw in the grass and dirt.

“Feel him in there. Reach down, right down next to him,” Derek said, keeping his voice soft and monotone, almost hypnotic. This was the hardest part and usually caused frustration. “Now, move down next to him and step aside, let the wolf come up and out. You’ll feel him move, slide next to you as he moves up and out of your body. Feel him move,” Derek whispered and watched his mate in awe.

Stiles looked rapturous, a smile on his open mouth.

The feeling was absolutely incredible. He crawled down deep inside him and ran his hands over the soft but rough fur of his sable wolf. _Beautiful_ , he told him, _you are amazing_. _Go on, go play! Go meet our mate. You’ll love him._

Derek knew Peter and Laura were watching them and he had a feeling if he looked toward the apartment over the garage, the rest of the pack would be watching. But he refused to look away and possibly miss one moment of seeing Stiles’ beta form.

He missed it.

He didn’t get to see Stiles’ beta form, because once again, Stiles exceeded expectation.

With a sigh, a single breath, Stiles melted into a gorgeous sable wolf with creamy colored forelegs and muzzle.

A bark of ecstasy filled the air as Stiles the wolf discovered his world. As he had wanted to, he stretched his claws out and dug them deep into the grass and down to the mud. It squished between his pads and it felt awesome. _Mate!_ He barked, _come on! Let’s run!_

“Impossible,” Peter whispered.

“Entirely possible apparently,” Laura whispered.

“A miracle,” Derek said. With a thought, he shifted into his fur, his pitch-black wolf stretching then immediately going to sniff his wolf mate.

“How?” Laura whispered, moving closer to Peter as the wolves scented one another.

“I have no idea. We’ll have to call Deaton. Stiles is something Other. We need to make sure we can protect him and take care of him. I’ll call Deaton,” Peter said, though he didn’t move.

After a moment of exploring and familiarizing themselves with the other’s scent, Derek nudged his mate and ran into the forest.

Stiles gave a yip and an aborted howl and raced after Derek. The sensation of running on four legs seemed foreign and yet so natural, like he’d always known how but just didn’t have the paws yet. He was fast! In no time, he caught up to Derek and leapt around him, before ramming into his side. Giving a rumble of laughter, he ran off, catching air off a fallen log. Man, he had been missing out all this time. This was the life! There was no uncertainty, no fear, no being a spazzy klutz. He was wolf and he was amazing.

Next thing he knew, he was tumbling to the ground onto his back. Derek was over him, holding him between his forelegs. _Gotcha!_ Then Derek was licking his face. While as a human he would find that odd and maybe gross, here it was different. Derek was marking him, learning him and memorizing how he smelled so he would always be able to find him and know he was okay. Patiently, he lay there, panting and letting Derek explore his wolf self. Derek even nudged his paws, sticking his snout into each one. With a wolfy grin, he gave Stiles wolf cock a quick lap before just sticking his nose in Stiles’ ass. A rumbled laugh broke from Stiles and he kicked Derek right in the head with his rear paw.

With that he was up again and running. There was time for sniffing later. It was time to run! They did. In and out of the trees, through bushes and over ferns and berry patches. Stiles loved the feeling of nearly flying through the air and the utter freedom. The best part was running with the light of the moon shining on them. It felt warm like the sun did on his human form. The moon was calling to them and they answered the call.

For hours it seemed, they ran and played and Stiles sniffed everything he could stick his nose in. Derek huffed a laugh at him when he tried to sneak up on a squirrel. The squirrel kicked him in the snout, kicking off and flying up a tree. Stiles was disappointed. He just wanted to play!

Derek attempted to teach him how to hunt and Stiles kept playing with their potential snacks. The bunny was the most fun because it could jump like crazy. Finally, Derek took down a doe who had a bad limp. Stiles was unsure about eating it but his wolf had no problem and jumped right in, ripping and tearing at the hot meat. It was delicious! The most succulent venison he’d ever had. Derek and he finished it off quickly and found a small creek to wash their paws and muzzles off.

Eventually, it was time to go home. They were slower coming back. Stiles took a moment to learn the musky-warm, moon scent of Derek. He understood why they did it. He learned Derek was happy and healthy, his scent clean and welcoming. But after a while, they broke the tree line to see the entire pack standing there, waiting for them.

There were two chairs and their sweatpants were on them, ready for the human them to return. The chairs would provide a semblance of privacy. But the pack was impatient, and they applauded as the Alpha couple came home to them. Derek howled long and loud. Stiles eagerly joined him, getting the hang of opening his throat and forming the sounds. Joy, the howl said. Joy and Home and Pack.

Derek quickly shifted back and turned to Stiles. “Okay, my Own, just like you let your wolf out, move past your wolf and you’ll…”

He didn’t need to finish because Stiles the human was standing right next to him, grinning.

Stiles leapt on him and hugged him. “That was the best thing to ever happen in the history of ever!”

“Oh my god, how the hell did he do that?” Erica demanded.

“I’m so happy for you,” Derek whispered in Stiles ear. “Let’s get our pants on and we’ll talk with the pack.”

“Okay!” Stiles hopped over to the chair and plucked the pants up. Putting them on, he addressed the pack. “You guys are so lucky to have had your wolves for so long. What an amazing feeling!”

Laura and Peter smiled, truly happy for their new pack member.

“I remember my first run,” Liam piped up. “I couldn’t stop smelling things.” He laughed at the memory.

“Dude, right?!” Stiles agreed. “The nose on a wolf is a-freakin'-mazing!”

“How the hell did you change into your wolf? Didn’t it hurt?” Erica demanded. She had had a lot of trouble finding her wolf and teasing her out. She could now, but it was painful and still felt like her bones were breaking. It wasn’t a fluid thing like Derek, who was a born wolf. And apparently Stiles.

Stiles looked at her, feeling like he was being accused of something. “I just followed Derek’s directions. It didn’t hurt at all. Derek said to move out of the way and let my wolf out and that’s what I did.” He smiled gratefully at Laura who handed him and Derek bottles of water.

“We’re not sure what’s going on,” Derek said. “He is a natural, that is for sure. I don’t think it has anything to do with being an Alpha mate. We’ll have Deaton come talk to you,” he said to Stiles.

“Am I doing something wrong?” Stiles was hurt. He felt like being a wolf came to him easier than anything else ever had before. He was finally doing something right, without any practice. Now they were saying the emissary had to check him out? “Am I not going to be allowed to shift?” The thought broke his heart.

Derek took his hand. “No, my Own! Of course not. You’re doing things new pups aren’t typically able to do. You are very advanced for someone who just got the Bite. We’re all impressed,” Derek assured him.

“And jealous,” Cora said, giving Erica a side eye. She turned to Stiles. “I’m surprised you shifted to a wolf. Knowing your spazzy self, I figured you’d be a fox or a little kitty cat,” she teased.

“I would have made an awesome fox, I’ll have you know,” Stiles snarked, nose in the air. He imagined himself as a fuzzy little red and white fox. Whoops! Next thing he knew, he _was_ tiny and fuzzy and much closer to the ground than he was as a wolf or human. Holy shit.

“Holy shit.” That came from a bunch of people at the same time.

“He just shifted to a fox,” Isaac felt necessary to point out.

“Good observation,” Milo squeaked. “Um. How?”

“I have no idea,” Peter shook his head. “This is way beyond my pay grade.”

Stiles meanwhile was trotting along, getting to know this form. Odd, though, it wasn’t like the wolf. There wasn’t a fox inside him. It was like this other part of him, beyond human Stiles and Wolf Stiles, that was kind of amorphous. It was willing and able to do things Stiles told it to. Huh. He’d seen videos of foxes before, those little things could hippity hop like crazy. _Let’s try it_. Next thing he knew he was hopping across the patio and jumping off of rocks and chairs, having a blast. He was letting out little yips of excitement.

Derek, meanwhile, was staring agape at his hopping fox mate. What the hell? He didn’t feel anything dangerous about the situation, but extraordinary, absolutely. And very confusing.

“Stiles, mate, come back here please,” Derek called to Stiles who was currently stalking what looked like a frog.

Stiles left the frog, he’d smelled bad anyway, and hopped back toward Derek. _Hm. I wonder_ , he thought, full of mischief. He gave one last leap toward the chair where his pants were waiting and right before he landed, he pushed his human side forward.

Derek watched the fox jump up and morph back into Stiles, grinning, naked, sitting on the chair.

“Did you see that?!” Stiles cried. He grabbed his pants, pulling them up with a wiggle.

“We kind of couldn’t help but see it,” Kira said.

“Are you guys mad at me?” Stiles was seeing some odd expressions on his new family. “Should I not have done that?”

“How did you do that?” Derek had to ask. “I think that is the question on everyone’s mind. Think for a moment. Have you ever seen this happen before or heard of it?”

Stiles thought. Nope. “Nope,” Stiles said. “And how did I do it? Well, there’s this thing in me since I woke up. It’s not my wolf, he’s in there too. There’s this other thing that is willing to do what I told it to. I pictured a fox and said let’s do it and I did. That’s really it,” he told Derek. “Should I not do it again?”

Looking at Peter and Laura who both shrugged, Derek sighed. “Let’s hold off until we talk to Deaton. He’s on the way, right?”

Boyd looked at his phone. He was the head of security for the pack. He watched the cameras that were up all over the place and could access it from his phone. “He is on the main road, almost to our turn off. Four minutes, give or take,” he reported.

“Thanks,” Derek said. “Okay. Let’s go inside and get you some food. I’m sure you are hungry again.”

Stiles’ eyes sparkled. “Left over spaghetti?” He looked at Laura hopefully.

Giggling, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the house. “Come on, my little over-achiever. You can have all the leftovers you want.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The why's and how's of Stiles' power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was late! Between colds and preparing to buy a house, there hasn't been much time for editing. I'm hoping to get another chapter out before the end of the weekend. Enjoy!

Stiles was elbow deep in his second bowl of spaghetti when Laura let Deaton in and greeted him as the pack emissary.

Deaton came in the room and stopped dead, his eyes glued to Stiles, who currently had a spaghetti noodle hanging out of his mouth. In the sudden silence, he slurped it up, swallowed and hastily ran his napkin over his face.

“Deaton?” Derek tried to get the emissary’s attention.

“You should never give another Bite until I can meet with them. This is an oversight on both our parts. I should have made an effort to meet your mate, I apologize, Alpha,” Deaton said in his calm, measured tone.

“Alpha Mate, I am Emissary Deaton, welcome to the pack,” he said formally.

“Thank you, Emissary Deaton. I am honored by your late-night visit to the pack. Can we get you anything?” Stiles asked, his instincts driving him again.

Deaton’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know to respond in that manner?”

Stiles shrugged. “Instincts. There's been a lot of that happening tonight. Just going with the flow.” He gave the emissary a grin.

Deaton took a seat and asked what happened.

Derek took the lead on the happenings while Stiles finished his spaghetti, smiling gratefully at Liam, who took his bowl to the kitchen.

Deaton nodded and hummed before standing. “Isaac, would you please get the black bag out of my trunk please.”

Isaac nodded and ran out to Deaton’s SUV.

“Alpha Mate, would you please come over here,” Deaton said, walking into the foyer where there was a wide area of open floor. “I would like to encircle you with a mixture of herbs which should reveal what is going on inside you and any latent powers you have. Will you agree to do this?”

Stiles looked to Derek, who smiled and nodded. “Sure, okay.”

Stiles went and stood in the area Deaton pointed to. Isaac came in with the black bag and held it open for Deaton who got out a bowl and poured several different herbs into it until it was a colorful mess in the bowl. Walking to Stiles, he began spreading the herbs in a circle. When there was about a foot of space left to fill in, Stiles watched as Deaton threw the last of the herb at the open space. At it, not filled it in. He threw the herbs _at_ the space and the circle was instantly complete.

Stiles was gaping. “Okay, that was awesome. I want to learn how to do that!”

Deaton gave a Mona Lisa smile. “You might be able to learn it. We shall see, won’t we?”

Stiles grinned. “We shall.”

“Now Stiles, as I’m chanting, I would like you to reach down into yourself. To that new area you described, that is willing to do your bidding. Just push it up out of you like you are creating a force field around yourself. Do you understand what I mean?”

Stiles thought for a minute. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Deaton gave him a bigger smile. “Alright. Begin…. Now.”

Stiles dove inside himself, recognizing that it was getting easier and easier every time he did it. This time, he grabbed that amorphous energy and pushed it up, up, up over his head and out. It felt good to let it out and he smiled as he stretched it out.

Derek stared from nearby as his mate was suddenly enclosed in a bright white light. Oh, and his mate was glowing gold. He was beautiful, this amazing Other who was his gifted mate.

“What the hell?” Peter whispered behind him.

“I second that,” Milo whispered.

Erica clutched Boyd’s right arm and Liam couldn’t help hiding behind them.

Oddly, Kira had started to glow as well. They could see her kitsune floating above her. Her eyes were wide with shock.

“I didn’t do that,” she said, trying to stay quiet while she was freaking out.

Deaton was muttering to himself and quickly grabbed a book from his bag, thumbing through the pages. He dropped it on the table, his finger tracing over the words. “My goddess.”

“What is it?” Derek demanded. “Is my mate in danger? Is the pack?”

“No, no,” Deaton assured him. “Nothing like that. Quite the opposite. Stiles, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Emissary, I can hear you,” Stiles said, his voice was like an echo through the room. Everyone shivered at the sound, his voice like a warm wind over their skin and wolves.

“Call my book to you. Open your hand and call it to you,” Deaton said, moving so the book was directly in Stiles’ path.

Stiles opened his hand and mentally wound up the energy and sent it soaring to the book, grabbing it up and bringing it back. “I called the book, Emissary.”

“Thank you, Stiles. I would like you to pull the energy back into you, deep down so it can rest. Please rejoin us,” Deaton said, his hypnotic voice calling to Stiles.

Stiles pulled it back, sucking it back almost like taking a breath. When it settled back inside him, he could feel a happy glow, like the energy had enjoyed the tasks. He had a feeling if he exercised it regularly, it would grow and become stronger. For now, though, he pushed it down and opened his eyes. There were more gasps all around.

“What? Do I have spaghetti on my face?” Stiles asked, looking around.

“Alpha Spark, your eyes are glowing purple right now. Push that power down just a bit more,” Deaton said. 

Stiles was confused but pushed down on the energy just a bit more and then looked at Deaton again who nodded at him with a smile.

“Well done, Stiles,” Deaton said. “Your eyes are back to normal.”

“What is going on? Why did you call me Alpha Spark? Why were my eyes glowing purple?” Stiles was very confused and a bit scared as well. The pack was whispering amongst themselves, wondering what was going on with their new packmate.

“You’re a wizard, Harry!” Erica yelled.

Stiles snickered at her.

“She’s not entirely wrong,” Deaton announced. All whispers stopped and they all turned to Deaton.

“What?” Stiles was blown away. What the heck was his life?!

“You are a Spark, Stiles. Your official title is Alpha Spark. If you’d like to take a seat, I will explain more,” Deaton said, pointing back to the dining table.

Everyone took their places, Stiles scooting his chair closer to Derek’s and holding his mate’s hand. Derek massaged his palm, trying to give off comforting vibes but not quite succeeding. Had he done something wrong during the Bite?

“First of all, Stiles is the Alpha Spark. A Spark can do many things. If they will it, then for the most part, they can do it. Like you turning into a fox. You willed yourself into the shape. You did not become a werefox, you were simply borrowing the shape from your energy source. What we just witnessed a moment ago was your energy source. When you use that magic, your eyes will glow purple. We may never know the extent of your abilities. If you can harness and learn to control that energy, you can do anything,” Deaton said.

“Holy shit,” Boyd said.

“What he said,” Stiles whispered.

“How did this come about?” Derek asked, still wondering if he had done something wrong.

“It did have to do with the Bite, but, Alpha, you did nothing wrong. This power was within Stiles since his conception. The Bite acted like a trigger. It lit the power bomb and it exploded. That is why he could shift into his wolf so easily. Also speaking to his strength, I am not sharing this bit to scare anyone, but the transformation could have killed him. I should have insisted on meeting him beforehand to put some protective safety measures in place during the Bite transformation.”

Derek sat there in shock. He could have killed his mate. He could have killed Stiles.

“Derek, I’m okay. I’m right here. We didn’t know. We _couldn’t_ know. Who would have thought I would have weird superpowers?” Stile said with a smile, trying to push Derek out of his funk. “Besides, I came out just fine. I will never leave you, Derek. Freaky powers or not.”

Derek looked at him and grabbed his chin, kissing him fiercely. “I will never put you in danger again, mate. I am so sorry.”

Stiles could see the hurt in him. “I forgive you, Derek. But there is still nothing to forgive. But I will give you what you need. I forgive you and I love you and I trust you. Now you need to trust in my trust,” Stiles said, hand resting against Derek’s face. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” Derek said. He sighed. He did trust Stiles and even Deaton said there was nothing that could be done. “Okay. I’ll let up on the guilt trip.”

“Guilt schmilt,” Stiles said with a chuckle. “You jump started my superpowers. I owe you! This is the most amazing thing to happen to me since you,” he said, trying to convey to Derek how much he loved him and loved what was happening to him. He pushed that energy inside him and filled it with his love. That energy poured out of him and into his hands as he touched Derek. “Feel me,” he whispered, once again, working on instinct.

Derek saw Stiles’ eyes bleed purple and something poured out of his mate. Derek closed his eyes and breathed it in. He gasped as he was instantly filled with love, adoration, affection, admiration, excitement, hope, faith and security and dozens more emotions he could never name. Derek couldn’t help the tears that leaked from his eyes. He had never felt such love before, and Stiles was sharing that with him. Opening his eyes, he looked into those purple eyes and smiled. “You love me,” his voice filled with awe.

Stiles nodded and smiled. “Beyond all understanding.”

“I think I get that now,” Derek whispered. “I believe you.” And he did feel better. That stain of guilt was now healed over with the amount of love Stiles was sharing with him.

With a deep breath in, Stiles sucked the power back into him and as it settled he blinked and his eyes were Stiles-whiskey again. He wiped the tears off Derek’s cheeks and leaned in to kiss him, lingering for a long moment, feeling Derek’s shudder. Pulling away, he saw his mate was settled and the Alpha had returned. Nodding, he turned, his hand still in Derek’s, and they turned their attention to Deaton. “You were saying?”

The pack had been watching that display of love and each one wanted it for themselves. Laura and Milo held each other’s hands. Boyd pulled Erica into his lap and wrapped her in his arms. The single wolves looked and now knew what they wanted in their lives. The Alpha couple were a true example of love.

Deaton nodded. “The one interesting fact that may cause us to tighten security a bit is the rarity of what Stiles has become. Because he was a Spark before he became a wolf, adding the magic of the wolf on top of that was like using the power of an entire city to light one light bulb. It magnified it beyond measure. According to my records, there has only been five Alpha Sparks in history. It is considered such a treasured gift, packs would look for Sparks to see if their Alpha could make such a connection. An Alpha Spark is seen as a blessing to the future of the pack. They can help bring peace to territories, they can even help nature grow. They can commune with the Nemeton and feel it grow and reply. As far as my records show, there is no limit to what he can do. He is bound only by his own will. While he can do all these things, it may attract other packs who want to challenge Derek for him. Do they ever succeed? Not according to my books. But the fact that there has only been five in all of history can make people do crazy things. Of course, this is all granting that people will know what an Alpha Spark is. Peter, have you ever heard of it?”

Peter grinned, sheepish. “I thought it was like a fairy tale. I’ve heard of it, now that you explained it more, but I thought it was just a story.”

“Yeah, Mom and Dad never taught us anything about that,” Laura said. “Do you have any reading material on it?”

“Yeah, I’d love to read any accounts you have,” Stiles jumped in.

“Of course. I will leave this for the Alpha Spark and then he can teach others. I can only allow another magic user to access this book. It will burn your hands if you try,” Deaton looked at Laura pointedly.

“What?” Laura gave him innocent eyes.

Deaton wasn’t fooled. “You will get burned; I’m not making that up.”

She held her hands up. “Okay, hands off.”

There were giggles throughout.

Kira raised her hand. “Deaton, when Stiles, um, Alpha Spark was in the trance, my powers were, like, activated. Why would that happen?”

Deaton considered the situation for a moment. “The trance he was in was allowing his power out. If we think of an actual Spark, it explains that his Spark set off your power. He wasn’t focusing his power on one thing, it was just set free. I don’t think anything would come of it, but I would encourage you two to experiment. You may be able to do some interesting things together.”

Kira gave Stiles a thumbs up and he returned it with a big grin.

“Now, Alpha Spark. Some warnings. Watch your anxiety levels. If you get too stressed, you may have power fluctuations. Shifting from animal to animal or having actual sparks coming out of your hands. So, work on control and meditation.”

Stiles sighed. “I have ADHD, there is no such thing as meditation for someone like me.”

Deaton shook his head. “I am ninety nine percent sure that your attention deficit hyperactivity disorder was simply your body trying to handle the power of your Spark inside you. Now that you are starting to understand your power, you can work on controlling it. It’s not just this frenetic uncontrollable energy. It’s something you have already shown that you can contain. So meditation will help you.”

Kira raised her hand. “I had to learn it as well. I can help if you’d like.”

Nodding, Stiles smiled at her. “I’d appreciate it. I have no idea where to start.”

“We’ll start first thing tomorrow, if that works for you,” she said.

“We may need to play it by ear,” Derek said. “Being a new wolf pup, we never know what might pop up.”

“Am I really a pup? I can shift to my fur easier than most, just as fast as you, actually,” Stiles boasted, eyes twinkling merrily.

“That is true. I guess it depends on how we decide what makes a pup. You are a newborn, so to speak,” Derek pointed out with a matching smile.

“But he shifts with no pain,” Milo pointed out, a wry grin on his face. “I’ve been a wolf for years and I still have problems with that.”

“Same here,” Erica said. “I think we should graduate him to the head of the class.”

“I second that,” Isaac said, putting his hand up like he was in class.

“Third,” Kira said, putting her hand up too.

Next thing Derek knew, the whole table, including Deaton had their hands in the air.

“Well shit,” he grumbled. He’d wanted to be able to call his mate pup. He thought it was adorable. That didn’t mean he couldn’t tease him with it. “Alright. Stiles, congratulations, you are a wolf, fully grown with all rights and privileges.”

“Wooooot!” Stiles stood up and danced in place, giving a low howl, stretching his throat like his wolf did.

Derek stared in shock as he did what most wolves his age couldn’t do. Control like that was near unheard of. He glanced at Deaton who, while also surprised, looked proud and impressed.

The rest of the pack, growled under his howl, supporting his call to family. It was a beautiful sound, one that Derek couldn’t resist. He stretched his head back and echoed the call of his mate. _His_ mate.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles' first meeting with a touch of sexy times thrown in for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaddya know?! The next chapter has arrived!

The pack broke up after that, heading to bed now that Stiles was successfully changed and healthy. They were driven by instinct to go to the Alpha couple and place their hands over their heart and being acknowledged by Stiles and Derek before heading off. Derek told Stiles it was an antiquated way to recognize the new power structure in a pack. It wouldn’t happen all the time, but since Stiles became an official part of the pack, it pushed their natural wolves to show submission.

Derek took Stiles hand and took him upstairs. It was their first night together as wolves and he wanted time with him before the sun came up.

Once in the bedroom and the door was closed and locked, Derek turned to see Stiles shuck his pants and crawl under the covers. He saw a peek of glowing gold eyes under shy lashes as his mate lay down.

Derek quickly pushed his own pants to the ground and went around to the other side of the bed. Stiles held up the covers for him and Derek grinned as he crawled in. This was what he had always wanted. Stiles, as a piece of him. In his home and bed, part of him for eternity.

“Come here, my Own,” Derek said, his voice soft, holding his arm up for Stiles to snuggle up to him. His mate didn’t hesitate, laying his head on Derek’s chest, Stiles’ long fingers smoothing through the hair on his chest.

“I can’t believe I’m a wolf now. And a Spark apparently,” Stiles murmured. “I know I was teasing about stuff, but I’ve never been… special before.”

Derek tilted Stiles head up as he looked down at him, brows down as he frowned. “You have always been special, Stiles. Now the rest of the world is seeing it. That’s the only difference.”

Stiles gave him a small smile. “You have to say that. I’m your mate.”

“Did I ever tell you what happened the first time I saw you?” Derek asked, letting Stiles settle back on his chest. Derek stroked his hand up and down Stiles’ naked back as their other hands entwined.

“Yeah, you said you knew instantly I was your mate, that you could sense it through my scent,” Stiles said. “I love that story.”

“Let me tell you more. I left out some details because I thought I was losing my mind at the time,” Derek said. He loved that memory. The moment he became whole.

Wolves lived a long time. Centuries, in fact. Longer if they found their mate, the other half of their soul. Together they were stronger and healthier and there were stories about mates living a thousand years if their love was powerful enough.

After a century or so, most wolves began traveling, hoping beyond hope to find their One. Derek did and while he loved seeing every corner of the world, he never found his mate. He dreamed of him. He’d known from a young age that his mate would be a male. While gender didn’t matter to society anymore, Derek knew he would be alpha one day and he would need to have a child. So he confessed to his mother that he knew his mate would be a male. Talia Hale was thrilled that he already knew that much and told him most didn’t even get that little hint. It didn’t matter that his mate would be a male. He had a twin sister who was perfectly able to have a child for the pack. There were surrogates out there who were adopted into packs for just that situation too. The moon would bring the perfect mate for him, a wolf of his very own to love forever. Besides, she told him, she and his father had no plans of leaving the earth any time soon, “…So don’t put so much pressure on yourself! Just find your happiness in the now and then you will find him, my little pup.” Derek was relieved and settled into his life, learning his role in the pack and just leaving himself open to when the moon would bring his mate to him.

The Hale pack had settled in their ancestral packlands in Beacon Hills and were in the process of speaking with allies and preparing new treaties. Derek was sent to speak with the town Sheriff, John Stilinski, to make his acquaintance and see if there was anything the pack could assist him with. Sheriff Stilinski showed him into his office, and they discussed the town and what was going on in different areas and how it might relate to his pack.

Near the end of their meeting a knock came on the door and a tall, lithe young man walked in. Hair shaved close to his scalp, limbs long and leanly muscled, though still coltish in his youth. Clad in a Captain America t-shirt and close fit jeans that showed his pert behind off to perfection, Derek couldn’t take his eyes off him. None of that captured his full attention, however. Beyond the clothes and cute butt, Derek saw sparks, actual gold and silver sparks shimmering around the teen, lighting him up, framing him in brilliance.

“My own,” Derek whispered, tears burning in his eyes. He rubbed his eyes so he didn’t frighten the humans. When he opened his eyes, the sparks were gone, but the brilliance, the beauty of the youth remained.

“Hey Dad, I brought you lunch. And there’ll be no complaining about the salad. I put extra meat on the sandwich, so finish it all,” he said, handing his father a bag.

“Thank you, son. Stiles, this is the Derek Hale, son of the Alpha Talia Hale, the pack that just moved into the old Hale Preserve. Derek Hale, my son Stiles,” Sheriff Stilinski said, his smile showing his pride in his son.

Stiles smiled at the wolf. “Hi there, it’s nice to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand.

Derek tried to stop the trembling of his hand as he held out his hand to touch his mate for the first time. “It’s an honor to meet you, Stiles.”

When their hands touched, they both felt a jolt from the spark of their souls meeting and mingling for the first time.

“What the heck?” Stiles was shocked, his entire body tingling from the contact.

“What just happened?” the Sheriff demanded, standing up.

Stiles and Derek’s hands were still connected. “He’s mine,” Stiles said.

“What the hell do you mean by that?” his dad asked. “Let go of him.”

Stiles didn’t let go, instead came around the desk and stood in front of him. Derek got his first glimpse up close of intoxicating whiskey brown eyes that seemed to sparkle and shimmer on their own.

“He’s mine, Dad. I don’t know how I know that. How do I know that?” Stiles asked Derek.

“You’re my mate. My very own mate. My own,” Derek said, voice quiet and worshipful. “I’ve searched the world for you.”

“I was probably in class,” Stiles said with a smirk.

Derek grinned. His clever mate was funny. He was in love. “I guess I forgot to check there.”

“Would one of you explain this to me? Do you already know each other?” Sheriff Stilinski loud and on the verge of anger, hands on his belt, too close to his gun.

“No, we just found each other. Just now. Dad, you know wolves have mates. Apparently I won the wolf lottery and got me one of my very own,” Stiles said, his eyes still glued to Derek.

“It is I who have experienced a miracle,” Derek said, passionate in his declaration. “I am blessed to have such a mate.”

“He’s only sixteen years old!” the Sheriff blustered. “There’s no way you’re gonna be with a wolf who is way older than you.” It was rude to ask a wolf’s age, so the Sheriff had no idea Derek was centuries older than Stiles.

“Dad, it’s not like we’re gonna hop right into bed,” Stiles said, winking at Derek. “We need to get to know each other. But he’s mine. And that won’t change.”

“Never,” Derek swore to him, smiling at the bright grin on his mate’s face. He raised his hand and touched the soft skin of his face. He still had a bit of roundness to his features, a testament to his youth. But he was already showing beautiful angles to his jaw which hinted at how striking he would be in a couple of years. Derek could wait. “I’ll wait. Forever if necessary.”

Stiles chuckled. “Maybe a couple years.”

The sheriff finally understood this was outside his realm of knowledge and the reach of a father. Derek was utterly besotted, staring at his son like he was a miracle. His son was half in shock, but also so happy in a way he’d never seen him before. Grumbling under his breath, he realized there was nothing he could or should do.

“Get out of here, both of you. Stiles, home by midnight,” he said, pointing at the door.

Stiles eyes lit up and he bounced to the door, dragging Derek by his hand. Derek was more than happy to go.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . 

“We had our first kiss that night,” Stiles mused. He’d never heard the story from Derek’s perspective before. “Do you think you were seeing my spark?”

Derek hummed. “Probably. The wolves I’ve talked to who found their mates didn’t ever mention seeing sparkles.”

Stiles wiggled around until he was laying on top of his mate, head laying on his hands atop Derek’s chest. “I sparkle, huh?”

Wanting to moan with the delicious sensation of Stiles naked body against his, their cocks nearly touching, Derek closed his eyes and took a breath before meeting the heavy-lidded whiskey gaze. “You sparkle for me. Wanna see if we can make sparks together?”

Derek’s voice was deep, low in his chest. Stiles could feel it vibrate into him. He closed his eyes. “I’m going to ignore the cheese that came with that statement. Instead, we’ll move to the horny portion of the evening.” With the lights off, Stiles could still see everything, and he saw Derek’s eyes go red.

“Move, my Own,” Derek rumbled, his red eyes filled with desire.

For the first time in his life, Stiles felt beautiful and sexy. It must have been the wolf inside him because when he planted his arms and flexed his muscles, his body moved in a sinuous wave atop Derek’s, their skin rubbing together, cocks brushing against each other.

“Again,” Derek demanded, a growl erupting as he got instantly hard as a rock.

Stiles groaned and undulated again, then again. Soon, Derek grabbed his hips, lifting up against him. When their cocks began leaking, the slide became easier and the whimpers and moans broke out. “More, Alpha,” Stiles whimpered.

With a loud growl, Derek flipped them over and began thrusting against his mate, his hand moving down to hold their cocks together.

Stiles took the opportunity to grab a handful of Derek’s muscular ass, gripping it with his nails. Derek’s answering curse made him hold on tighter.

“Alpha, gonna, gonna,” Stiles warned.

“Mark me, my Own,” Derek demanded, giving a particularly hard thrust down onto his mate’s cock.

Stiles cried out and came, sparks suddenly flying out of his mouth and fingertips.

Derek shouted at the shock to his ass and came hard, the force of it making him see stars, and not just Stiles’ stars. Collapsing on his mate, they both were panting.

“We have got to do that more often,” Stiles said, trying to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe how awesome that had felt.

“We can do that any time you want to,” Derek said, rolling off him. Then he saw the mess on Stiles abdomen and sat up, looking at him. His wolf was triggered at the sight of his mate being marked by him. Red eyes came out and fangs descended. A single clawed finger swiped through their mixed come and scooped some up. He didn’t resist the urge and put the finger in his mouth, moaning at the taste. It was delicious. Driven, he got more and pushed his finger into Stiles’ mouth, rumbling happily as Stiles hummed and moved it around his mouth before swallowing. “Us,” Derek said through his fangs.

“Us, Alpha,” Stiles said. This time, he went through the motions of feeding himself then Derek. It meant something to them. Another piece of acceptance and marking. But even instincts eventually got sleepy. “Shower me, Alpha,” Stiles said, wanting to clean up.

Derek was still caught up in the mood and easily picked Stiles up and carried his laughing mate into the shower. After cleaning and more groping than strictly necessary, they got back into bed and snuggled up together.

“Thank you for accepting me and all my new weirdness,” Stiles whispered. “I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted.”

Sighing, Derek kissed his mate’s head. “Someday you will let go of all your worries and be certain that I will love you no matter how you are, no matter who you are, no matter what you are. I love you. And your Spark and all that comes with it isn’t a burden, Stiles. It’s a miracle. You are a miracle. My miracle. And it is an honor and a privilege to be your mate. Nothing will ever change that.”

Stiles was quiet for a long moment. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my Own.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning started with another energy fueled run through the forest with Stiles. The ability to instantly melt into his sable wolf entranced Derek and he stood and watched it happen, a wide smile on his face. His mate was a true miracle. Stiles leapt around him and barked for him to join in the run and he quickly complied.

Derek let Stiles lead this time, let him explore the Preserve and the new senses that were awakened in him. His mate was lighter with this as a distraction. During the night, Stiles had a nightmare about his father hating what he’d become. Once Derek had shaken his mate awake, they’d spoken of his father and what he really might think of Stiles’ Spark. Derek said his father would have rolled his eyes and grinned, completely unsurprised that his son was something beyond special. Then the sheriff would have cuffed him upside the head. Of course he was extraordinary and don’t be silly thinking anything else. Overall, having his wolf awakened kept him from the sadness of losing his father. Derek didn’t feel bad using the distraction to the furthest extent. If he could ease his mate’s pain, he would. Running together like this freed them both.

Stiles sniffed every blade of grass, dug his claws into moss and bark and anything else he came into contact with. It was a welcome sensory overload.

Suddenly, something called to Stiles. He didn’t recognize what the feeling was, but it was connected to the new thing inside him. His Spark. _Mate, something calls me_ , he called out to Derek.

Derek stretched his own senses out but didn’t feel anything unusual. _Do you want to answer?_

_Very much,_ Stiles responded in an excited bark. _So powerful._

_I am behind you. Seek it out,_ Derek encouraged.

Stiles gave a yip of excitement and dug his claws in to push himself faster. He opened that new part of him and like a homing device he sought out the connection.

Jetting around a copse of trees, he skidded to a stop.

A huge tree stump sat in a clearing, calling him still closer. The deep brown trunk seemed to crawl up out of the ground. Whatever had happened to cut the tree down had left deep, painful looking gouges in the wood. It was wounded, but still strong.

_Child._ Stiles heard it call him clearly.

Stiles came right up to the remains of the tree and plopped onto his butt. _Nemeton?_ He asked.

_Welcome home, child._

_Thank you. Why do you call me child?_ He asked, though he didn’t mind. The power coming from the stump was staggering. It was ancient and raw and real. The most powerful being he had ever encountered. Tree or not, wood or not, it was a Being. It existed, it had life in it.

_You are of us,_ Nemeton said. _Your Spark comes from us. We gave it to your family, and they carried it, waiting for the One who could live through it. Your mother was a beloved child, she came to us, but was unable to live through the Spark. We are so sorry, child. We tried to take it, but it was already rooted in her._

Stiles whimpered, a tear leaking from his eye. _This Spark is why my mother died?_

_No child,_ Nemeton responded. _The illness prevented her from living through the Spark. We tried to take the brain illness, but it was too deep, its roots stronger than our own. We took her pain as best we could._

Derek bounded up to him, barking a greeting to the Nemeton. He saw tears sparkling in his mate’s eyes and growled low in his chest. _Mate, what is it?_

The Nemeton swept a wind across Stiles that ruffled his fur and soothed the hurt in his heart. _Have your mate call your pack to you. It is time we got to work._

Stiles knew to trust the Nemeton and its power. He had a feeling he knew what was coming, but his instincts were so new, he didn’t want to make assumptions. _Mate, please call the pack. Nemeton has work for me to do. So much to tell. Later. Please call now._

Derek trusted his mate and the ancient power of the Nemeton, thanks to the lessons from his father, so he nodded sharply and sat back, the call to pack clear in his howl. He conveyed location and urgency to all who could come. Peter would know to secure the house since all were being called and he trusted his uncle to see to the safety of the packlands before coming out. He would be the last to arrive, having made sure all who could make it were there and safe.

Meanwhile, Stiles was communing with the ancient Nemeton. His Spark was something that had been passed down through his family until the one who could bring the Spark to life arrived. That was him. Through the Bite, he became strong enough to bring the Spark into being. He was the One the Nemeton had been waiting for.

_Are you sure?_ Stiles’ wolf cocked its head to once side. _I don’t know how much you know about me, but I’m not the best person. I’m kind of spazzy._ He let his tongue hang out in a wolfy grin as he panted.

He felt the Nemeton smile at his humor. _We are sure, child. You have everything in you we had hoped to see in the Spark. Did you know you are the strongest Spark to ever exist?_

In shock, Stiles reared up onto his hindlegs and then landed hard, ducking down low onto his forelegs. _What? Are you serious? I don’t think I should be trusted with that kind of power._

Nemeton used his power to pull him closer until Stiles popped his front paws up onto the deeply scarred surface of the stump. _Feel your truth and our history._

Stiles was transported from the sun dappled Preserve into a space he’d never seen before. Ancient lands flew past him, places and things he’d never seen exist. He flew outside of time and saw forests full of trees like the Nemeton, saw the power they had and how they shared it with Spark bearers. Together, they ruled the land with peace, fairness, and power. Then humans came into the picture. They didn’t like the imbalance of power, having none of their own; though they got the benefits of the power as all the beings did. They wanted more so the humans started killing other beings. Tiny species of beings who just loved playing in flowers, killed by humans as annoying bugs. Proud rock Beings were crushed by human inventions, saying they were a threat to human existence. Stiles watched, horrified, as species after species was taken out. Some killed under the ban of what was called a religious war, but really, it was the annihilation of entire peoples.

Tears streaked his face as he saw the destruction of magic, how it had to go into hiding when all the Nemetons were cut down, their power stolen to strengthen human armies. Until one day, the humans considered themselves the victors. Magic was gone and the humans thought they held all the power. But deep underground, the roots of the Nemeton were preparing. It was hiding its magic, growing the population again, right under the noses of the humans. When the wolves were ready to be brought back into the world, the Nemeton jumped into action, making sure they were such a benefit to the humans, they wouldn’t be able to resist the help they offered when it came to healing disease. Now the wolves were out and accepted by most. The old armies were still there, still wanting to take them out, but the Nemeton was making the wolves stronger. Nemeton was also busy working to bring back old species, old creatures and lives that had been stomped out by humans. But they would be stronger now. Much more powerful. Strong enough to defend themselves against the threat of the humans. And One would rise among the creatures, one who was part of both worlds, the humans and the Other. One who could bring both worlds together and guarantee that no people would ever be pushed down or destroyed again.

Stiles came back from the journey, human again, drenched in the tears of seeing what his human family had done to his Other family. Such devastation. Such death and hatred. So many lives lost for no other reason than greed.

“I’m so sorry, Nemeton,” he sobbed, falling to his knees. “I’m so sorry they were all lost.”

_You are not at fault, child. You are the One. You and the power inside you, your Spark, will help bring back the world as it once was. A world where magic and humanity could live in the same world. Forever._

“I can’t do that,” Stiles cried, shock across his face. “I’m just… just me, just some spazzy teenager that doesn’t know anything. I can’t bring back populations of magical creatures, I can’t bring peace. I barely passed my biology test!”

He felt the Nemeton chuckle at him. _We wouldn’t have given you the power and bring it to fruition if we didn’t think you could do it. We are proud of you, child. You are the One. Once you see what you are capable of, once you see the magic coursing through you, you will know. The fear will subside, and you will do what you are meant to do. You are the One,_ it repeated, putting emphasis and power behind the word.

“Stiles, what is going on?” Derek, human now, darted to his sobbing mate and pulled him into his arms.

Stiles began sobbing out what he could, but he wasn’t making much sense.

_Calm yourself, child. I will reveal all when your family arrives. Take shelter in your mate for the moment,_ Nemeton told him and he felt a warm, calming wind wrap around his bare body.

“Talk to me, my Own,” Derek whispered, kissing Stiles everywhere he could reach in his attempt to calm him.

“Nemeton will explain it,” Stiles muttered. “Don’t let go, Der, please don’t let me go.”

Derek held him tighter, lightly massaging him with his hands. “Never.”

The clearing was soon filled with a pack of wolves of all colors. From Erica’s blonde and white wolf to the nearly curly pelt of Isaac and Peter’s gray and silver coat brought up the rear. Laura, in her dark brown coat, came bearing a gym bag which she dropped in the middle of the clearing. The pack began shifting and throwing on pants and long shirts.

Peter came over, his impressive physique bared in low cut, worn through jeans. He held out the Alpha couples preferred sweats, which they took. They barely separated, clutching each other once again when they were covered.

_Assemble, Hale pack._

The Nemeton’s words seemed to fill the clearing.

Liam whimpered. “What was that?”

Stiles looked over and smiled. “It’s the Nemeton. They are communicating with us. Come over everyone. Surround the Nemeton and listen.”

As if they’d been following his words for years, they immediately surrounded the stump of the ancient oak in a large circle.

_The story of the One has been told for millennia. Left hand, you know the tale. Please tell it to your pack._

Peter stood straighter, pleased to be singled out. “Yes, Nemeton, I would be honored. The story of the One has been told wolf to wolf and pack to pack for as far back as wolves can remember. Millennia ago, there were magical creatures covering more of the earth than humans were. As the population of humans grew, we shared our magic with them. But they grew greedy, demanding more. They thought if there were less magical creatures, there would be more magic and power for them. They began building armies and slowly but surely destroying entire species’ worth of creatures. Elves, the rock eaters, the fae and the sprites, dryads and naiads, mermaids; so many lives and cultures lost.”

As Peter spoke, his voice became hypnotic, lulling them into a state where they became lost in his words, seeing it in their minds as millions, maybe more were slaughtered. Erica whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks. Kira was glowing, her power activated just being near the Nemeton, her tears shining against her skin. Liam and Isaac both were beta shifted, unable to help it.

“As the magic, and eventually the Nemeton of the world, were destroyed, the magic went underground, hidden as it tried to revive itself. Over time, man forgot about the magic they had once killed to get and then lost because they had killed it. But the roots of the Nemeton did not forget. Instead, it began rebuilding its magic. Wolves were brought back first because they are fierce protectors and magically powerful, but also able to hide among the vicious humans. We were given more magic than before because to be exposed to the greedy humans we had to have something to offer. So, we came to the humans with our ability to heal and they could not refuse the benefits to the people. Once again, they were receiving our magic. We lulled them with our healing and now they are accepting of us. More magical creatures, the were animals, mostly, have been brought back, but others as well. Those that can hide. But one day, we will bring forth the One. The One will have the combined power of all those magical creatures we lost. The One will have the power to bring back those lost species, the One will bring back magic on earth. We all live for that hope, that _we_ will see the One. If not, then we will live strong and be fierce in protection of our Nemeton, keeping it safe as it works to rebuild the magic of our world.” Peter finished his story and lightly shook his head, as if he had been caught up in the spell as well.

“Thank you, Peter,” Stiles said. “The Nemeton has brought us together today for a demonstration. I’m not exactly sure what is going to happen, but please join hands and reach inside where your wolf or your fox is, bring that magic up into your chest,” Stiles instructed. He moved forward and knelt, placing his hands on the base of the stump of the Nemeton.

_Pull forth the magic, child. Pull it up and out and into us,_ Nemeton said.

Stiles pulled up that magic, pushed the amorphous shape of it up and out and into the Nemeton, felt it penetrate the wood and into each ring of its lifetimes, soaking into each cell.

“Do you see…” someone whispered and was quickly hushed.

Stiles felt the magic of the Nemeton in the roots below him as he slowly stood. He pulled that power up into him, letting it flow through him and merge with his own magic and pushing it back into the Nemeton.

Gasps were sounding around him, but he ignored it, intent on his task. He was almost done. Energized by the success he felt deep inside, he continued pulling it up, mixing it together and pushing it out, pushing harder and harder and with a growling shout that echoed through the forest he gave one last push and collapsed onto the ground, panting from the exertion.

“Holy shit,” Milo’s voice was hushed with awe.

“I second that,” Isaac whispered.

“Uh yep, I’ll go with that, too,” Liam said.

“Is he okay, Derek?” Laura asked from nearby.

“I think so. I’m not supposed to touch him yet,” Derek sounded frustrated and eager to get to him.

_Stand up and reveal yourself, child. See for yourself who you are. Look what you have done._

Stiles opened his eyes and blinked. Before him stood a tree, a mighty, ancient tree that seemed to stretch for miles up into the sky as he tilted his head back further and further. He couldn’t see the top. The beautiful mahogany bark was healthy and almost shimmered with strength and power. The Nemeton was restored. Like it had never been destroyed. It was whole and filled with magic once more.

_As have all the rest in the world,_ Nemeton told him. In a sudden flash, he saw all the Nemeton trees in the world restored and full once more.

Because of him. He closed his eyes, humility and reverence washing through him.

_You did it, child. Now. Declare who you are. The world is listening and ready to come to life at your words._

Stiles opened his eyes and knew they were purple with power. Following his instincts, he turned and saw his family now surrounding him, their eyes wide with shock.

In a voice that echoed from a millennia of collected magic now restored, his voice trembled through their bodies and into the magic that made them wolves.

“ _I am the One_ ,” Stiles Hale declared, his words shot out of him like a volcanic blast.

The world of magical creatures heard him and bowed before him.

Stiles looked around and his family was on bended knee before him. The Nemeton had been right though. He was no longer worried that he wasn’t enough or the right one for the job. He was the One and he was going to do exactly what the One was supposed to do. He would bring magic back to the world.

_One last task. Accept your pack. Make your connection,_ the Nemeton instructed.

Peter walked up and knelt in front of him. “I am honored to serve the One. I offer you my wolf and my life in your service.”

Stiles was tired, but he knew this was to be taken with the significance meant behind it.

“I thank you and I accept,” Stiles said and when he touched Peter’s head, a purple light went from his hand into the wolf, who gasped and when he jerked his head up, his blue eyes glowed purple for a moment. Stiles felt Peter inside him and knew he would be able to contact Peter with a thought from then on.

As if they learned from Peter’s example, the rest of the pack came and knelt before him, swearing their lives and magic to him.

Derek was last and came to him. He knelt in front of his mate and smiled, his eyes glowing red. “I am also honored to serve the One. I offer my pack, my life and my wolf in your service. I swear to my dying breath, my Own, that I will see to your safety and your wholeness on your journey. And, as always, my heart,” Derek said.

Stiles, eyes glowing violet, smiled with love for his mate. He touched Derek’s cheeks and saw the power exchange. Derek would be able to communicate with him and call him just as he could now. They might even be able to communicate telepathically. “Thank you, Alpha, I accept, and I also swear to your wholeness and the protection of the pack. I will see to the safety of each of you to my dying breath.”

_Now rest, child. I am sending one who will assist you. Her power comes the opposite way of yours but is powerful. She is lonely but will find wholeness in your pack._ The Nemeton stepped back from his mind just as quickly as it had entered him.

Like some switch had been turned off, Stiles felt more like himself. A spazzy teen who, sure had magic enough to power the entire world, but was still just a big kid.

“Get up guys. I’m still just me,” he said, offering them raised brows and a grin.

The nerves that were visible on their faces vanished and smiles and chuckles broke out.

“Hey Laura,” he called, tucking himself into Derek’s side. “Can the One still go sock skating in the house?”

Laura giggled and snorted. “Only if I can clothesline you!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the late chapter! Hubby and I were offered the chance to buy the house we are renting and we are swamped with appointments and such. It is surprisingly stressful and doesn't leave me feeling inspired to write. I'm working on the next chapter, please be patient for its arrival. All the best to you and thank you so much for reading!

Once they returned to the house, Laura, Stiles, and Derek, who didn’t want to be far from his mate, made a large steak and salad lunch for everyone which was demolished in minutes.

After lunch, the pack dissipated to do their own thing. Peter was taking off to speak with another pack in Oregon that had a problem with marauding omegas that he might be able to help with. He would be gone for a couple of days. He had wanted to cancel after Stiles’ revelation, but Stiles and Derek assured him they would be fine. Stiles didn’t feel any tugs of concern from his Spark or Nemeton, so he was confident all would be well. They hugged him and sent him on his way.

Going upstairs, Stiles stayed in the library in the overstuffed chair that looked out over the foyer downstairs. He could see the front door and through the windows to the driveway beyond. He knew someone was coming. He even had a feeling he knew who it might be. They hadn’t talked since she yelled at him for graduating early, pissed she didn’t have someone to compete with anymore.

“What are you waiting for, my Own?” Derek asked, brushing his fingers through Stiles hair from his perch on the edge of the chair. He had things he needed to do but couldn’t walk away from his mate. Not yet. He’d just seen his teenage mate bring an ancient stump back to life and grow it at least three hundred feet into the sky. Then, because Stiles was an overachiever, he revealed he was the One that all wolves had been hearing about since the beginning of time. Now, though, he was just Stiles, his mate. If anyone could protect themselves at this point, it was Stiles. Still, Derek couldn’t bring himself to be too far away.

“Nemeton is sending someone to me to assist me. Their powers will come from the opposite end of mine. Help me see all the way through,” Stiles murmured, his lids at half-mast as he kept an eye on the road outside.

Derek kissed his forehead. “Do you know who it is?”

Stiles shrugged, humming at the caress.

“Come on, I know you have an idea. Trust your gut, Stiles. That is going to be a huge part of this journey. Trusting yourself. Nemeton wouldn’t steer you wrong,” Derek said. Stiles had always suffered from not believing in himself. Now was the time to help him past that.

“Lydia Martin,” Stiles said. “I think she’s a White Lady. I thought I was seeing things, but I thought I saw her with glowing white hair sometimes. Out of the corner of my eye, you know,” he said with a sigh. “I thought for a while I might have the same sickness Mom had. At least now I know that’s not true. But if she is a White Lady, she is probably terrified.”

White Lady. Derek had heard of those when he was a pup. The White Lady, more commonly known as a Banshee, could sense death after it happened and knew when it was coming. That would be horrifying for a young teen to experience if they knew nothing about what it was they were going through.

Stiles jumped up, almost pushing Derek to the floor. “There she is,” he said and ran to the stairs.

By the time he opened the door and stepped out onto the covered wrap-around porch, Lydia was stepping out of her little blue electric car. She looked grim until she saw Stiles. Then her eyes lit up.

“Stiles?” she looked surprised and happily so.

“Hey Lyds,” he called and came down the walkway to her.

She surprised him by rushing into his arms, her whole body trembling. “Thank goddess it’s you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“I am pretty fabulous,” he teased, breathing in her icy, almost minty scent, through her white speckled red hair. She was turning into a White Woman just as he saw all those times.

“You are, you are. Just don’t try to compare to me,” she said. “Who is that glaring at me behind you?” Her body was stiff and no longer giving.

Stiles looked behind him and saw his mate staring at Lydia, irritation clear in his green gaze. Eyebrows were only at Defcon three, so Stiles didn’t need to step in. “That is my mate, Derek.”

“Did you get the Bite, Stiles? Is that how you knew I was coming? I need some information from you before I freak out,” Lydia said, crossing her arms and jutting her hip out.

“Come on inside and I’ll fix us some coffee before we talk,” Stiles said, holding his arm out to show her the way.

Once they were settled in the comfortable brown leather couches of the den, Lydia gave Stiles an eyebrow, waiting.

He grinned. “You talk with your eyebrows like Derek does,” he said. His mate, convinced there was no threat, was off taking care of whatever Alpha business he had so it was just he and Lydia.

She gave a glimmer of a smile. “Then start responding.”

Stiles snuggled into the overstuffed couch, holding his hot coffee on his lap. “So, I found out I am a Spark after I got the Bite. I was so alone after Dad,” he said hesitantly, not wanting to get too deep into that subject.

“So, you got the Bite, makes sense,” she said, waving her hand. “A Spark?”

He gave a small smile, knowing she had done that so he wouldn’t have to get into his reasons. Getting into how they discovered his Spark and his adventures as a wolf and a fox and meeting the Nemeton had her jaw dropping regularly.

“That is freaking crazy. And if I didn’t see dead people, I would scoff at you, flip my hair and storm out of here,” she said, shaking her head.

Chuckling, Stiles could absolutely see her doing that. “I understand. It is a total bucket of crazy.”

“What I want to know now is how you seemed to be expecting me when I got here,” Lydia said. Her shoulders had slowly relaxed over the course of their talk and he was happy she was beginning to trust him.

“Nemeton told me they were sending me someone to help me whose powers come from the opposite direction of mine. Someone who could help me see better. I had a feeling. Sometimes when I’d see you in the hall, I’d see you with white hair. I thought I was going nuts at the time. But after I got my Spark and the Nemeton talked with me, I had a feeling it might be you. I’m working on trusting my gut, so I’m happy to see I was right,” he told her with a smile. He saw the shimmer of tears forming in her eyes. He put his coffee down and held out his hand and she put her tiny hand in his.

“I don’t have to hide this anymore?” she whispered, her green eyes tormented.

Scooting over, he gathered her into his side. “Not if you don’t want to. You are welcome in the pack. You can join us and we’ll take care of each other. It doesn’t matter if you see dead people or turn in to random animals and turn out to be some legendary folk hero. You’ll be welcomed here among the most loving pack you will ever find. I’m sure you could even move in if you wanted to. We’ll research Banshee and see how we can ease your burden. Nemeton brought us together to help each other.”

“That sounds really good,” she said, sniffing and wiping at her eyes with a tissue he handed her. “If I could figure out how to control when I see the dead, my life would improve a hundredfold.”

“Do you feel up to telling me your story?” He rubbed her hands and projected his Spark to help her feel warm and loved.

Her eyes went wide and then closed, a look of near bliss on her face. “I can feel you,” she whispered. “I feel warm for the first time in months.” Her entire body seemed to relax at sensation of heat covering her.

Controlling his own tears, he worked to make his Spark like a blanket so she would feel it every time they were near. He didn’t think it was something they could make permanent. The cold was part of who she was now. But if they were meant to join forces, she could enjoy the warmth when they were together.

“The first time, I was on my way to a friends house for the first time. I put in her address in the GPS and just started driving. I had been feeling off all day, kind of spacy. I was following the directions but ended up at some park. I just got out of my car and walked over to this bench and there was a dead guy there,” she said, shaking slightly. “He’d been shot. Then a few days later, I saw this woman and she was walking down the road outside my house and I started following her. I had the same spacy feeling as I followed her, like I was waiting for something. When she turned to cross the street, she got hit by a car and was killed instantly.”

“Holy shit,” Stiles murmured. “That had to be horrific. I am so sorry, Lydia, I can’t even begin to comprehend how awful that had to be.”

“It just keeps happening. I’m too late to save anyone or I’m too early and have no idea how to help,” she said, her voice hollow and eyes lost.

“Let’s go see Nemeton,” Stiles suggested, tugging her hand. “They brought us together, there must be some message or something we can do.”

“Really?” Lydia’s voice ached with hope.

“Really. I am not promising anything, Lyds, I’m going to say that right out. There are lessons Nemeton teaches and sometimes it’s gonna suck. But there is always a reason and there is comfort in knowing that there is a plan. Is that good enough?” He had to be honest with her. As she’d been talking, he had been getting a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t be helping her. At least not right away.

“Anything is better than what I’ve been going through,” Lydia said, rising when he pulled her to her feet.

“Alright then, let’s go,” he said.

They left the house and entered the woods and Stiles quickly realized though she wore pants, Lydia’s strappy heels were not going to help her get the distance to the Nemeton.

“Hold on. I want to try something. A way to get us there quicker,” Stiles said. “Stay here, you don’t wanna see my naked ass.”

She grinned. “Not really. You’re a good friend, just not that good of a friend.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he chuckled good naturedly and jogged behind a nearby tree. He stripped down and concentrated on the picture in his mind. Throwing himself into the shift, he adjusted to his new size, leaned down and grabbed his pants with his teeth, leaving the rest behind, and trotted out from behind the tree.

Lydia was gaping at him. “Stiles… you’re a horse. A beautiful horse. But a horse.”

He was indeed a horse. A tall, chestnut stallion with a flowing mane and tail and a white star on his muzzle. Dropping his pants at her feet he whinnied at her. _Get on my back!_

Picking up his pants and folding them up, she draped them over her arm. “If you want me to ride on your back, you need to shrink. Maybe a pony would be better.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at her. Bending his long legs, he knelt before her.

Grabbing his mane, she threw his pants over his back in place of a saddle and clambered on, wiggling to get into place. “It’s been years since I rode a horse, so let’s take it slow.”

He neighed and began a slow walk and as she began moving with him, he moved into a trot, picking up speed as they both grew more confident.

Lydia began laughing as her hair and his mane sailed in the wind. “Let’s run,” she bent down and whispered in his ear.

Thankful he knew the way to Nemeton good enough now, he moved from a trot into a cantor and as Lydia encouraged him, they were soon galloping through the woods. His whinny showed his joy as he took a chance and jumped over a downed tree. Lydia shrieked as they sailed through the air and landed perfectly. Her laugh thrilled him, and they flew through the forest arriving at the Nemeton breathless and happy.

Lydia slid off his back, offering his pants to him so he could take them in his mouth before turning with a gasp. “It’s huge,” she said in quiet awe.

Quickly trotting around Nemeton, Stiles shifted and pulled his pants on. He came back around and saw Lydia with her head all the way back as she stared up the length of the huge redwood.

“Lydia, meet Nemeton. Nemeton, I present Lydia Martin, White Lady and Banshee,” Stiles said formally.

Never having spoken to a tree, Lydia hesitated. “It’s an honor,” she finally said.

_An honor indeed_ , a low voice spoke in their minds.

Eyes wide, Lydia looked at Stiles in shock. He nodded with a smile.

_Thank you for coming, White Lady. You heard my call, though you did not know my voice. We are honored that you join us_.

“What can I do for you?” Lydia had to ask. She was pleased that she now knew how she knew to come to Stiles.

_Join the pack of the One. You will get the answers you seek._

“You can help me control these powers?” Lydia asked, desperation clear on her pretty face.

_No. The help is coming soon. You will become another root in the tree of the pack. There are many ways to become connected. Your connection is coming soon._

Lydia couldn’t help the tears of disappointment that escaped.

_Grieve not, White Lady. You will get more than the help you seek. For now, find solace in the One and know that you are part of a greater whole that will never leave you. Goodbye for now, White Lady and Spark._

“Goodbye Nemeton,” Stiles said, his tone respectful and full of reverence.

“Thank you, Nemeton and goodbye,” Lydia said, her good manners getting her through the necessary words.

It was almost a pop of air as the Nemeton’s presence in their minds left. Lydia shook her head and walked away from the large tree.

Stiles joined her and took her hand. “I’m sorry, Lyds.”

When they were out of sight of the Nemeton, Lydia broke down, sobs wrenching her whole body. Stiles grabbed her and held tight to her. He surrounded her with his Spark again, pushing everything comforting he could think of into her. He wanted her to see the hope in Nemeton’s words, to know that help was on the way. More than just help, according to the cryptic words Nemeton had told her.

After a time, her tears trailed off and she shuddered against him, taking deep breaths. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t normally break down like that.”

He shook his head as it rested on hers. “I think it’s been a long time coming. We are in this together and we have each other to lean on. I know I can come to you when times are tough and so can you.” His voice changed and the part of him that was the One spoke to her, the tone echoing itself. “You are part of me now.”

Lydia’s head flew up and she gasped as she saw the glowing violet eyes of the One.

“You are part of me and part of the pack. You are one of us. Forevermore, Lydia Martin,” he intoned. The One left just as quick as it appeared and Stiles cleared his throat, his honey eyes sparkling at her. “Tickles the throat.”

She gaped at him and broke into giggles. “An ancient presence makes itself known through you and you say it tickles your throat. Stiles Stilinski, you are one of a kind.”

“It’s about time you see it!” He said laughing. “Come on, Banshee, let’s introduce you to the pack. I’m going to see if I can talk you into moving in.”

“I’m definitely going to think about it. I’m also thinking of doing what you did and graduating early. There is nothing more for me at that school,” Lydia told him.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he said, taking her hand as they set off back towards the house. He was excited to see what Nemeton had in store for her and what this ‘more than the help you seek’ might be. Nemeton always had a surprise in store.


	8. Chapter 8

Pulling his Jeep into the high school parking lot filled Stiles with a plethora of emotions. If it wasn’t for Lydia asking him to, he would never have returned here. He hated it. He hated this place and the people in it. There had been so much hell in those halls. Teachers who hated him, students who wanted to see him destroyed because of his father. Being the sheriff’s kid did him no favors in his school career since the beginning of kindergarten. A fact he had successfully kept out of his father’s field of vision. At first, he was despised if a kid’s parent got in trouble from his dad, DUI’s or speeding, whatever. Moving to junior high and high school, any time kids were caught partying and his father went there to break it up, Stiles got the punishment. These weren’t just groups of kids getting together to drink beer. Raves planned for months, costing thousands of dollars to both the host and the guests who would pay whatever they had to get an elusive invitation. Those people who had all their hard work ruined needed someone to take it out on. To take thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours of planning out on. Stiles had bought new tires for his Jeep more times than he could count. He’d cleaned up spray paint insults off the paint job. One memorable time, he had to replace his transmission. That’s right, he came out of school and his transmission had been ripped - inefficiently at that - out of his precious Jeep. While it sucked and was a total pain in the ass to hide from his father, it ended up being a favor in disguise. His transmission had been going out since he first started driving it and the new one was amazing and still running great.

Then there were the kids who wanted to get even for school related shit. Fighting on school grounds. Smoking pot in the bathroom. That was the nice shit. That got kids pushing him around and ‘normal’ bullying practices. But then you got the violent kids. The ones who would attack the teachers and principal or the ones who would bring knives or guns to school. Those kids did not take kindly to the local sheriff who would not only take away their weapons, but send them to juvie. They took their pound of flesh from Stiles, sometimes literally. He’d been stabbed before and while he shouldn’t have been shocked, he was. The pain from it was intense and took a long time to heal since he hadn’t gone to the hospital like Scott encouraged him to do. Instead they’d gone to Scott’s house because his mom, a nurse, kept a spectacularly put together Scott Closet. Full of bandages and wraps and other care-taking implements that Scott needed for his various owies. Stiles suspected some of the supplies were meant for his own bumbling and clutzy ways.

Now that Scott had abandoned him, he realized his friend had never really been there for him during the bad times. Sure he let Stiles into the Scott Closet, but he had to pay for the replacements so his mom didn’t question him. He also never defended Stiles or stuck around to clean him up afterward. Who cares if Stiles paid for and kept multiple asthma inhalers for Scott over the years so he would always have one no matter if it was in his back pack, the Jeep, Stiles’ own bathroom and kitchen. He took care of his brother. But any time Stiles got the shit end of the stick, Scott would disappear until the attack was over. Sometimes he wouldn’t come back at all and Stiles wouldn’t see him until the next day. Stiles let him use the excuse of having asthma as the reason he couldn’t get involved. ‘Let him’ being the key phrase. He could have called Scott out for it, but he never did. Something in him was grateful for any ounce of friendship he got, so he never did anything to put that at risk. Maybe he should have. At least alone, he wouldn’t have to deal with disappointment and hurt along with the physical ailments.

He was better off now and he realized that. He had come to peace with Scott being out of his life rather quick. There had been some tears that Derek had mopped up, but when he really thought about it, the end of the friendship brought the end of excuses. The end of why Scott couldn’t or wouldn’t be the kind of friend Stiles thought he should be. The kind of friend Stiles was.

Being Derek’s mate brought an entire new prospective of friendship and loyalty. Erica, Boyd and Isaac had been slow in accepting him, but when he showed the loyalty he wanted in a friendship, they brought him into the fold. As wolves, they were told to never use their abilities in school. They weren’t allowed the extra power, speed or protection. They were just as vulnerable as Stiles was. Erica was still given shit about having epilepsy even though she didn’t have it anymore and Stiles had no problem getting in the faces of assholes. He didn’t have superpowers to suppress - yet - so he would defend her to anyone giving her problems and she started calling him Batman. That and she remembered how he would always have things to help her out when she did have epileptic seizures when they were little. He apologized for stopping over the years and she shushed him. They’d both gone different directions. They weren’t in the same social circles or classes anymore. It wasn’t up to him to keep up with her. The memories meant a lot to her.

Boyd was never given much shit, but it cost him a lot to not defend his Erica. When he would blow up and Stiles’ dad would get called, Stiles had no problem stepping in and letting his dad know what was really going on. The quiet wolf seemed to appreciate that.

Isaac, even with wolf power and the confidence that came with it, was the most vulnerable of the school wolf pack. He could still be intimidated by the bullies. When the truth came out about what his dad put him through, the Bully set had no problem putting him through hell mentally and physically. Breaking Isaac mentally left him open physically. They teased him and then shoved him into closets, rooms, even a locker one time, which had to be hard because Isaac was freaking tall. Stiles was there to disrupt the mental bullying as much as he could. He also hooked up Isaac’s phone so Isaac just had to press a single button and the wolf pack would be sent a message and a location for Isaac so they could rescue him. That small gesture opened the door for their friendship to be born. They became inseparable in ways he and Scott never had been. When Stiles started hanging out at the pack house, the two developed a true friendship, discussing their passions and love of comic books and they were buddies from there on out.

As he sat there in the parking lot, he also felt a certain joy. He won. He not only survived all the abuse and the hatred and asshole teachers who lived to make his school life miserable, but he walked out; not only early, but on his terms. Sure, his dad okay’d everything, but Stiles did the work, made up the tests, did the weeks of extra schoolwork. He worked hard and he won. He walked out with a diploma with honors and multiple college offers. Despite any teacher protests, Stiles did what was required and walked away without a single look back.

After he proved it could be done, Erica, Boyd and Isaac followed him and though they were still testing out, they were done with high school as well. No regrets.

Today he was there to pick up Lydia. She had decided she, also, was done with school. She’d already done everything she needed to graduate except the ceremony. There was no reason for her to be there except wanting to say she did it, to finish with her peers. To finish with her former boyfriend, Jackson Whittemore, one of Stiles’ most violent bullies.

When her Banshee powers began to emerge, those things began to matter less. Finding dead bodies and suddenly knowing when people in her life would die tended to make the high school games matter a little less. Not to mention, her friends and former boyfriend were less than accepting of her new abilities. Her tendency to go into a trance didn’t endear her to them. Then the changing of her hair began getting her teased. When Jackson dumped her but offered to keep sleeping with her if they kept it quiet, it let her know her prior life was over.

After their talk and showing her the accepting life she could have with him and his pack, she had made the decision to admit she was different and live her life accordingly. She asked him to pick her up today, her last day. She needed the emotional support.

Knowing where her locker was, Stiles walked in, a new sense of confidence in his step. He was the powerful Spark, the One and he was the mate of the Alpha wolf of the Hale pack. Any show of power no longer mattered as he was no longer a student there.

Unfortunately, he was not psychic and because the halls were filled with kids and noise, he didn’t see the bat coming at him until it was too late.

* * *

When he came to, he was on the floor. The smell of unwashed bodies let him know he was in the boy’s locker room. His new senses also let him know there were seven guys surrounding them, each surrounded by a dark gray aura that warned him of danger. They weren’t alone. Each was holding a bat or a lacrosse stick or a hockey stick.

Pulling up his Spark, he got it ready to take these assholes out. There was no way he was going to put up with this. When he reached for it, there seemed to be nothing there to access.

_No child. You have to face this alone. You will learn why another time. Be brave. Stay strong. Live._

The Nemeton was denying him the use of his power? The one time he had something to fight back with?

Fine, he would use his claws and teeth. But for some reason, his wolf also failed him, he just lay there asleep or maybe unconscious. The wolf wasn’t responding at all. What was happening?

Jackson chuckled. “Looks like the injection of wolfsbane is working.”

They had poisoned his wolf! Stiles was filled with fury. He would have his payback.

“The circle of it will keep him in place,” Jackson continued. “Stiles is so fucking pathetic, he can’t even be a wolf right. Bummer for you, Stilinski. Let’s have at it guys, Lydia will be looking for him soon. This is for your freaky shit affecting my fucking lay you bastard. You and your wolf freak friends have ruined my senior year. This is payback,” Jackson said, an ugly sneer on his ugly face. Then he gave Stiles a cruel smile. “And daddy can’t do anything because he’s dead, isn’t he? Did you kill your daddy, freak?”

Stiles reared back and began to jump up as the first lacrosse stick connected with his left arm and a baseball bat crushed his rib cage. He heard a crack in his bones and knew his ribs were broken. A hockey stick came down on his shin and he heard another bone give under the pressure. Gasping and trying to protect his middle, he rolled to his side, the broken rib already choking his air supply.

“Nothing to say now, huh Stilinski? That mouth of yours isn’t running, is it?” Jackson said, laughing as he brought his lacrosse stick down over Stiles stomach.

Stiles groaned, a cough wracking him as blood shot out of his mouth at the impact. The pain was intense as his body was hit over and over again. They were kicking him in the back, the ass and down his legs and up to his head.

For five long minutes, Stiles endured the worst attack of his life. The guys all laughed, and Jackson spit in his face before running out of the locker room.

Stiles’ breath was rasping out of him, and he knew his lung was punctured. Pain wracked his body from one end to the other and he had no idea why the Nemeton had prevented him from protecting himself. Why was he meant to go through this pain? Hadn’t he lost enough? Feeling his wolf wake, he opened his mouth and howled as best he could. It was a pathetic, thin, sound, but he knew he was heard. But then his wolf fell back down, and he knew he was screwed.

What was the point of all this power if he was just going to die from being attacked by a bunch of bullies? What was the point of being told he was going to help resurrect all of the supernatural species from history if getting beat up took him out? Live, the Nemeton had said.

Stiles heard him, then, his mate, the love of his eternity. A howl of rage, pain, fear, and vengeance. Yes. He would live. For Derek, he would.

Laying there, gasping in what oxygen he could, he waited, quiet and determined to live. Derek would save him. He couldn’t think too much, his head was screaming, and he was certain he had a concussion. If the pain wasn’t a clue, the graying of his vision was. It was taking all his effort to not cry, but he knew he had to stay still.

The door opened quietly and he could hear Lydia whimper. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Lyds,” he whispered, the word barely a breath.

“Oh, thank god,” she cried and ran to him. She reached for him until he held up a hand, the broken fingers making her gag.

“No touch. Dyin’. D’rek com’n,” he rasped, a whimper breaking through.

“Do you want me to call the cops? Tell me what I can do,” she pleaded, her hands fluttering over him like she wanted to touch but knew he was in too much pain.

“Cl’r wolf’bane circle, black p’wdr. Go, wa’ch f’r pack. Send ‘em in,” he whispered. “Th’x Lyds.”

Lydia looked around him and realized he was laying in a poorly drawn line of black powder. She quickly used tissues to sweep it away from him, not knowing if it would hurt her or not. “I’ll go, but Stiles, why didn’t you stop them and why aren’t you healing yourself?” Lydia demanded, fear clear in her soft voice. “You have all this power, why aren’t you using it?”

Stiles shrugged then moaned from the pain it caused. Yeah, lots of broken parts. “Nem’ton said no. M’wolf is out of it. Wlf’bane shot from Jackson.”

An animalistic growl left her throat and her eyes seemed to glow. “Shit. Alright, I’ll guard the door and watch for your wolves,” she said, hurrying for the door, her phone already in her hands.

Luckily it wasn’t long before he sensed the arrival of his mate. Now that he wasn’t surrounded by the wolfsbane and the injection was wearing off, his senses were waking up. He could tell Derek was near and his mate was _pissed_.

He was ready for it and didn’t jump when the door slammed open, a roar of fury and fear filling the room.

“Stiles! Mate!” Derek growled, running and sliding next to him. “What happened?”

“Attacked,” Stiles got out, already feeling better just to have Derek near him. “Bat got me, knocked me out,” he panted between phrases. “Bullies attack. Shot up with wolfsbane. Nemeton said no magic. Wolf not right. Can’t heal.”

Derek already had his hands on Stiles where he could sense no broken bones and began pulling the pain away, the little black lines seeping up his arms and out of him through his wolf. His alpha knew how much pain he was in if the drawn brows said anything. “Oh Stiles. There is so much damage, sweetheart.”

“Get me home. I need to be on packlands,” Stiles whimpered. His instincts were waking up and Derek had told him to trust them.

The door opened and Peter – who was apparently home from his trip - Boyd, and Erica were standing there, beta shifted, filled with fury and ready to rip something apart.

“The Nemeton is keeping his Spark from healing him and he was injected with wolfsbane. We need to get him to the packlands,” Derek spoke quickly, gritting his teeth as he continued pulling the pain until Stiles was in a pain free trance. “Peter, get Lydia to the house, make sure she has what she needs before you leave. None of you are coming back here. These damn humans are lucky I don’t raze the whole fucking thing to the ground,” Derek growled. “Boyd, I need you to help me get Stiles into the Jeep. He has a lot of injuries.”

Lydia peeked her head in the door. “Laura is here with the Suburban,” she reported.

“Good. Okay. New plan. Boyd and Erica, take the Jeep home with Lydia and Peter. Peter, you’ve got Lydia. I’ve got Stiles,” Derek said and lifted Stiles as gingerly as he could. Whimpering loudly, his heart broke at the sight of his mate’s broken fingers falling to the side and his broken ankle flopping in the wrong direction.

Erica gagged. “What the hell did they do to him?”

“Beat the shit out of him with everything they had,” Boyd said and pointed to the pile of discarded weapons over by the lockers.

“Holy shit and he couldn’t heal himself or prevent the pain? How the hell did he survive that?” Peter whispered. He grabbed Lydia’s hand, feeling a shock as he did, and gently led her from the room, eyes glowing blue as he watched for any threat.

Erica led the way out of the school with Boyd following behind to watch their backs. Laura was out front with Milo, the back door of the huge 2020 pearl colored Suburban open and ready for them. Milo jumped into the back seat to help Derek ease the broken body of the alpha Spark into the vehicle.

Stiles came out of his pain-sucked fugue and moaned brokenly as his body began aching again. Derek ran around and took Milo’s spot, easing Stiles head up to sit on his lap, putting his hands on Stiles temples and draining the pain from his entire body. It put them both into a hypnotic state as their wolves connected. Derek could feel his wolf reaching through their spirits to lick and nuzzle his mate, trying to get him to wake up and respond, to please heal himself, please be okay.

Milo and Laura shared a worried glance as they waited for the Jeep and then headed home. Milo cringed over every bump he hit, but when they checked the back, both Derek and Stiles were lost to reality. Instead of going slow and careful, they sped up, wanting to get home faster.

After passing into the packlands, Stiles woke, a gasp ripping from him. He felt the return of his wolf and his Spark came to life inside of him.

“Ah god, it hurts, D’rek,” he cried, unable to hide or be brave.

Derek whimpered, his fangs out and eyes red. “I know, mate. What do you want me to do?”

Stiles searched himself. “Take me to the Nemeton please.”

“Of course. It’ll hurt, but I’ll run as fast as I can,” Derek swore.

He was only in sweats because he’d shifted and grabbed them with his teeth as he left home when he sensed his mate was in trouble. Now, with Milo’s help, he slid Stiles out of the Suburban, clutched him tenderly to his chest, Laura tucking Stiles’ broken hand against Derek, and he began running. He used every instinct he had to run as fast as he could along the most direct path, all the while humming to his mate who couldn’t help but whimper and cry out when an inevitable bump occurred.

Arriving at the Nemeton, Derek carefully lowered his mate to the ground, Laura there again to help arrange Stiles’ long limbs carefully on the soft grass. Derek glared at the giant tree and growled, his wolf shouting with him. “Why didn’t you let him heal and protect himself? Those assholes hurt him all through school, for years! Years! Why do they get to win and my mate has to suffer?” he didn’t know if the Nemeton would respond, but he was pissed and he would have his say.

_Alpha, it is good that you protect your mate. Sadly, this is a lesson. Your mate must learn to hear me. But he will also be stronger after this. He will bring new power and understanding to his pack and those who will one day be in his care._

_Stiles,_ the Nemeton addressed the moaning Spark. _You have been brave long enough. Listen and do as you are told and the pain will end. Learn this now and you will never have to learn it again._

“Yes, Nem’ton,” Stiles whimpered. “I will learn, I pr’mise.”

_Follow me inside you, deep inside you. Learn how to knit the broken parts._

Stiles, now able to connect to his Spark, followed the spirit of the Nemeton deep into his body, finding each broken part. The Nemeton showed him how to use his amorphous Spark to grow tissue, to connect bone back to bone and muscle back to muscle. Stiles learned how to knit the tender veins and vessels back together in his brain. He watched in amazement as his Spark sucked out the inflammation, the excess fluids evaporating. Giggling, he eagerly used his Spark and pushed each finger bone back in place, healing each little crack. Vaguely, he heard his wolf family gasping and exclaiming as his body appeared to put itself back together. But right now, he was tiny, microscopic even as he zipped around the interior of his body, warm and snug as he fixed himself. He learned more about anatomy than any class could teach him. One lesson that would prove invaluable was how to mix his blood into different types. His O positive blood, when tweaked just a little could be any other blood type. He now knew how to remove and add what was needed to make himself a universal blood donor for humans and wolves.

In the half hour the Nemeton took him on a tour of his body, he learned as much as a doctor would in ten years of training. As much as he consciously learned, he could tell the Nemeton was also downloading more information into his brain. He could really take care of his pack now and anyone else.

_Including creatures you haven’t met yet,_ Nemeton told him. _These lessons, though painful, will help you bridge the gap between species. You will be a benefit beyond magical power._

Stiles had a question. _Here you brought me into myself. How do I transfer myself to another being if I want to help?_

Stiles was suddenly awake and alert and back in his body. Oh, the Nemeton wanted a volunteer.

“Derek,” he said, eyes wide and sparkling with happiness and health.

“Stiles? Are you okay?” Derek was kneeling over him, hands now roaming his whole body.

He gave his mate a serene smile. “I’m good. All healed, I promise. I’ll explain in a minute. But I need your help with something. Can you help me?”

Derek nodded. “Of course, you never need to ask. Just say it.”

“Nemeton is teaching me to heal from the inside,” Stiles said, sitting up and moving his fully healed fingers. “I need a volunteer so Nemeton can teach me how to go inside you to heal you.”

“What do I do?” Derek asked, immediately willing to do whatever it took.

Stiles smiled at his amazing mate, always there for him, no matter the need. “I need a little wound,” Stiles asked, his face creased with concern. “I need to hurt you a little.”

“No need,” Derek said. He flipped out his claw and dragged it down his arm, flaying the flesh open.

“Okay! Stop! I don’t need much. Nemeton, what now?” he asked, in a slight panic at the sight of blood flowing down his mate’s arm.

_Find your Spark, pull it up and now push it into his arm. As it goes, push your consciousness with it. It can be tricky, but use your concern for your mate to help expedite the process._

Following the instructions, Stiles easily got his Spark to flow into Derek’s wound. He pushed his mind with it and couldn’t seem to get it to go. Then he looked at the gaping wound his mate had and how the blood was still dripping to the ground. _Now,_ he demanded of himself. And with that extra push, he flowed his conscious self into his mate through the hole in his arm. He would think about how weird that was later.

Quickly using what he learned, Stiles knit Derek’s flesh back together, covering it with his love and care.

_Use that same pure love and care with others and it will bind them to you and your pack,_ Nemeton told him.

Stiles finished up and kissed his mate from the inside. He then pushed himself back up and into his body. Opening his eyes, he smiled brightly at Derek. “All better!”

Derek smiled adoringly at his mate. “Thank you, my Own.”

Stiles kissed the arm that had been hurt. Even the blood was gone. How odd. “Thank _you_ ,” he said and kissed his mate.

_Lesson over. The ones to torment you will not bother you nor anyone else again. Enjoy your mate. Give yourself to him when you are ready, let him give himself to you. Much power can be born between the two of you._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Stiles' attack, Peter's mate, and sexy times...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not updating for so long. There's been so much Everything going on. But I'm determined to get some chapters out. I'm already editing the next chapter. I can't promise a regular schedule, but I do promise I won't be abandoning this fic.

Stiles called Sheriff Parrish later that afternoon and the hell hound stopped by the house within the hour to take his statement. Sitting in the formal living room with Derek and Peter, Lydia showed him the picture she’d snapped before she’d left Stiles alone in the locker room and the sheriff winced at the severe damage to Stiles’ body. The black circle of mountain ash was broken around him, but clearly visible.

“Alpha Mate, that is some damage. And you are healed now?” Parrish asked. He was well aware of healing and had been through it himself. It did make prosecuting the abusers harder, but with documentation like Lydia’s, not to mention the number of witnesses, they would have a case.

Smiling serenely, Stiles nodded. “The Nemeton helped me heal and showed me how to heal others while we were at it,” he told the sheriff. “Though it sucked big time, in the end, it was a good thing I was attacked. I’ll never tell them that, however.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Other than being bullies, I don’t know what set them off.” He refused to believe the Nemeton set them on him. It would break his heart a little.

The sheriff’s phone rang and he held a finger up to Stiles and walked away from the living room, talking quietly. Wolf manners decreed they not listen in, so Stiles and Lydia discussed her final grades and her joy over being done with high school. She, of course, had finished with above the norm, a 4.9 GPA which was unheard of unless you had overlapping classes which she did. She was waiting on a call from MIT any day to discuss her entrance. Her acceptance had never been in question, it was just the particulars they had to discuss.

Parrish laughed out loud and ended his call. He walked back to them shaking his head. “You will never guess what just happened. Jackson Whittemore and his cohorts just walked into the station and confessed what they did, asking to be tried to the full extent of the law. One of them, Theo Raeken, even had a video of the entire thing showing each of them beating the hell out of Stiles.” Parrish looked happy but confused. “He also had videos of several other attacks, including some under age students. That means they will be charged with assault of a minor.”

A small smirk lit Stiles’ face. Using his Spark, he sent out a message to the Nemeton. _Thank you, Nemeton. You have avenged me and many others and saved even more._ “I’m happy to hear that.”

The others gaped at the sheriff. “That’s more than we could have hoped for,” Derek finally said.

“I agree,” Stiles said. “What more do you need from me, Sheriff Parrish?”

Parrish gave him a bit of side eye and produced a tablet, tapping at it before handing it to Stiles. “This is Jackson Whittemore’s written statement. If you could corroborate it and sign it, that’s all we’ll need. With Miss Martin’s picture and the video from Theo Raeken, it will be a simple open and closed case.”

Signing with the stylus, Stiles then shook Parrish’s hand. “I know hell hounds are solitary creatures, but if you are ever in need of a pack or just time with supernaturals, you are more than welcome. I also have to say, you’re doing a wonderful job, Sheriff. ”

Parrish’s dark eyes softened. “That means a lot coming from you, Stiles. I appreciate it. And the invitation. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Stiles nodded and the sheriff returned it. After a round of handshakes, the sheriff took his leave.

As soon as the door was shut, they all turned to Stiles. “How did that happen?” Lydia demanded, a wicked smirk on her full lips.

“The Nemeton saw fit to avenge me and the others who have been wronged by Whittemore and his cronies,” Stiles said modestly.

Derek grinned and high-fived Peter. “I couldn’t be happier to hear that. Now I don’t have to kill him.”

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, kissing him lightly. “My bloodthirsty mate. The Nemeton is taking care of us just as they have for all eternity. We just have to get used to being taken care of.” He turned his head and saw Lydia and Peter holding hands, gazing at each other with something akin to awe. He remembered that feeling clearly. When Lydia had whispered the news to him before Parrish arrived, he’d been surprised and yet not. They fit. Now for some pack teasing. “You guys are so cute! Hey, we totally have to double date sometime!”

Chuckling, the sound vibrating in his chest, Derek shook his head. “Why don’t we give the newly mated couple some time alone to start.”

“Aww, fine. You’re no fun. Come on, then, let’s have some alone time of our own,” Stiles said and waved to Lydia who just waved her hand, her eyes never leaving Peter’s.

When they were finally alone, Peter and Lydia turned to face one another.

“Can I ask a question?” Lydia didn’t know how to broach this topic, but she couldn’t ignore it, it made her chest ache.

“Anything ever,” Peter assured her. “My life and mind are an open book for you.”

Looking down, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, Lydia blushed. “Have you been mated before?”

Peter shook his head and a knot loosened in her stomach.

“No, I have dated before and had a few relationships, one that bore a child, my daughter, Malia. But no, wolves only have one mate. I never found mine until I saw you,” Peter said and softly brushed her hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek. He looked over her delicate features with awe. She was really his. “I have walked this earth for centuries. I have met hundreds of thousands of people and lived lifetimes in the deeds I have done.” He began brushing his fingertips lightly across her face. “It was not until I saw your beautiful green eyes with flecks of gold, your stunning cheekbones, your lush lips, your intense and striking soul… not until I saw you did I feel alive for the first time.” His fingers ended lightly over her chest. “You have brought me to life and you will own me until death and beyond.”

Her dark green eyes watered, but shone with joy. Nobody had ever spoken to her like that before. “Even though I am basically a GPS for death?”

“What you are is but a title, Lydia, and yes, I accept all that you are. It is how you let it be used that will define you. I’ve known Banshee before and still do,” he told her, wiping lightly at her eyes to dry her tears.

“Really?” All she had were her grandmothers words in old journals to guide her.

“Really. I will teach you all I know. The Nemeton can also help you learn how to harness your power. You can learn to leash the power and lead it instead of letting it lead you,” he assured her, holding her hands and rubbing her trembling fingers. “You can learn to find death before death finds.”

His cryptic words made her brow crinkle. “What do you mean?”

He smiled at her, using one hand to ease the wrinkle from her fine skin. “You are so beautiful, so brave and good. I’m sorry. You just overwhelm me. I am so blessed,” he whispered, before clearing his throat. “What I mean, darling, is once you gain power over your abilities, you will be able to seek someone out before death finds them.”

Her breath suddenly hitched, a sob breaking through. “Please, Peter. If you are truly my mate as I feel you are, please tell me you are speaking the truth. If you are unsure of anything you just said, be honest and tell me so. Stiles’ Nemeton said it wasn’t time for me to have respite. Now you’re telling me this. I cannot bear to have this kind of hope and have it ripped from me,” Lydia’s voice was strong, though she trembled against him. “Please be honest,” she whispered as a tear streaked down her face.

Peter took her face in his hands, his blue eyes intense but open and clear in their honesty. “I am one hundred percent certain that the words I said to you are the truth. The Nemeton would have prevented either us meeting or having this talk if it wasn’t time. As for helping you, I can have you in contact with another Banshee in moments. Nina is in Russia, but speaks excellent English. She is, what, nearing her one hundred and forty second birthday, I think. She was a little older than you when her powers manifested. I know she had a lot of fear, but was able to find another Banshee who took her under her wing and taught her all she needed to know. Nina actually saw that Banshee through her death rites,” Peter said. He saw Lydia relaxing as he talked so he continued. “The Banshee can live for centuries, but the older Banshee who taught Nina was alone, her husband had died. Nina, once she got hold of her powers was able to walk the elder through special rites that were able to send her to her eternal rest peacefully. Nina said she went with a smile, whispering the name of her husband as she departed. That is the kind of control you can achieve.”

Lydia’s eyes were wide with awe and even some excitement at the thought. “I won’t have to find dead people anymore?”

Peter shook his head. “It will be different. If I understand it right, which Nina can clarify, you will feel the death coming before it hits. You will either be able to help the person, like calling emergency services or a wolf to heal them or you can warn the family who can then oversee their final moments. And sometimes, you and I, because you’ll never be in this alone, can save a life if something evil is about to happen.”

Shaking, Lydia leaned into Peter, letting him enfold her in his warm arms. “I’m not alone in this anymore,” she whispered. “Stiles has been wonderful, but it isn’t the same. I’m not alone.”

He tucked her tiny body against his, her head under his chin. “Never again, my beauty. You will get tired of me and demand your privacy,” he kidded.

“Never,” she whispered. A sigh of bliss escaped her when he kissed the top of her head, a pleasant shiver going down her spine.

A small decision made, she pulled her head back and up, looking at him in that way. The kind of way to let him know she wanted to be kissed.

Peter’s breath caught in the sweetest way as he suddenly looked nervous. Lowering his lips to hers, he moaned as their lips met. Her full lips moved against his, hypnotizing him as he kept up with the dance. She was delicious, he discovered when she parted her lips for him. Delicious and his, forever his.

. . . . . .

In their room, Stiles was nude and straddling Derek’s lap, kissing him deeply as they rocked their leaking cocks together.

“I’m ready,” Stiles whispered as he panted against his mate’s lips before moving to suck the sweat off the skin of his neck.

“Are you sure?” Derek had to make sure. His mate’s first time was to be treasured. He felt Stiles hum affirmatively against his neck. “Do you want to top or bottom?” Derek didn’t care about the stereotypes, he was just as excited to have Stiles inside him as he was to be inside his young mate.

“I want you to take me this first time,” Stiles said with a sharp moan as Derek’s cock slipped from between them and slid underneath, between Stiles ass cheeks. “I spent too many nights dreaming of what it felt to have you inside me. Riding my fingers until I came so hard I almost passed out.”

Derek’s head thumped into Stiles collar bone as he gave a guttural groan. “Fuck, Stiles. The way you talk.”

Without his mate seeing it, Stiles suddenly had lubed up fingers and was slowly inserting one into his ass. When Derek realized what he was doing, he growled and swung Stiles around until he was on his knees, balanced on one hand, a finger inside his hole. Derek was right next to his mate’s pert ass, rubbing a clawed finger between his cheeks, gathering lube. “Let me,” he demanded, his voice beta deep and growly.

Slipping his finger free, Stiles placed his lubed hand on the bed, glad for the extra balance.

Derek gently pushed his now-human finger into his mate, growling at the tight grip his channel had on the digit. “So tight,” Derek rumbled. Spotting the lube Stiles had snuck onto the bed, he quickly lubed up his fingers and after thrusting the first in and out until he was satisfied, he slowly introduced a second.

Stiles’ mouth hung open and he cried out, his entire body alive with desperate need for Derek to claim him. “Claim me,” he demanded, his voice deeper than he’d ever heard it.

Closing his eyes against the desire to simply plunge into his untried mate, Derek gently edged a third finger into Stiles. Without waiting, Stiles shoved his ass back onto the three, taking them all the way down.

“Holy shit, Stiles. That was the hottest fucking thing. How do you want me?” Derek asked, his control tenuous as he watched his mate’s ass fuck his fingers. He curled them just a bit and Stiles howled as Derek rubbed against his prostate.

“Just. Like. This. Now,” Stiles demanded, panting with need. “Now!”

“Hell yes,” Derek rumbled. He quickly removed his fingers and stroked his cock with lube, moaning at the entrancing sight of Stiles’ ass open just a bit, able to see the pink inside of him. Moving to his knees behind his mate, he gave his desperate cock one last stroke before lining himself up with Stiles’ ass. “You are mine,” he roared before plunging into Stiles.

Thanks to the preparation on both their parts, Stiles was ready for the onslaught of Derek’s massive cock in his ass. The feeling of being overfull was magnificent and he let his wolf howl out their pleasure. Together they accepted Derek’s claim and made their own claim on him.

“Yours,” Derek promised. The stranglehold of Stiles’ ass nearly overwhelmed him, but after a moment of letting him adjust, he pulled back and then thrust again, harder and more sure.

“Yes!” Stiles cried, arching his back while lowering his head to rest on his forearms.

“Oh fuck,” Derek whispered, the sight of Stiles ass on offer too much for him to handle. He began pounding into his mate over and over, angling just so to reach Stiles’ prostate. Another howl escaped his mate and he knew he’d gotten it right. Grasping Stiles under his arms, he pulled him up until he was sitting on Derek’s lap.

Stiles took over and began riding Derek, rising until just the tip of Derek’s cock remained before dropping his full weight back down. Over and over he did this until they were both drenched in sweat, growling and clawing at each other. Stiles gave a loud rumble as Derek grabbed his cock just as he dropped into Derek’s lap again. At the same time, Derek bit into Stiles neck, the same spot where he’d claimed him as a mate. Stiles came hard, come shooting all over his stomach and Derek’s thighs. A groaning growl escaped Derek when Stiles’ ass tightened around him, squeezing him until he came, filling Stiles’ ass to overflowing with his come. Being wolves they had much more come then humans and they were also happy to be covered in it.

Derek pulled out as gently as he could, knowing Stiles would be sore, even if it was only for a moment. He didn’t want to leave his mate’s heat, but they both deserved rest.

Collapsing onto their pillows, they shared silly grins.

“Can we do that again?” Stiles asked, his eyes already closing.

“Any time,” Derek promised, pulling him closer.

“After we sleep,” Stiles whispered.

“Uh huh,” Derek agreed.

And they did. Sleep that is. And then make love again. Twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hugs to you all. Be safe, stay sane. <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has a nightmare and company comes to call.

“No!” Derek roared as he came awake, fear and panic bringing out his fangs and claws.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, instantly awake and alert next to him.

It was a week after the incident at the high school and things had been going better than Stiles could have ever hoped. Stiles, while still mourning his father, was surrounded daily by those who loved him and let him have his quiet moments and being there however he needed them to be.

Lydia and Peter were fully mated and happy as could be. She had chosen to attend MIT via video. They had been so eager to have her, they accepted her proviso without hesitation. Stiles would soon be attending Oxford via video. The acceptance to the revered institution was achieved honestly. Stiles attending via video and computer were a little more magically wrought. But Derek assured him since they were still paying for the tuition and he was doing the work, the simple spell or coercion wasn’t that big of a deal.

Peter had connected Lydia with Nina in Russia, who had connected her with several other Banshee around the world and the group were teaching her and tutoring her in her new abilities. Lydia now had a calm about her that relieved the entire pack. They’d hated seeing her so afraid all the time. The first time she’d been able to help a woman prevent her death and several others via a car accident, she’d become more confident and sure in herself. They’d all celebrated with her and supported her in her studies, getting her anything she needed. Peter was always at the fore, doing anything to help his new mate be happy and whole. He, too, was more whole than any of them had ever known and had developed this lighthearted humor he’d never had before. The pack’s love for Lydia grew after seeing the changes in the Left Hand. For the first time, he was really enjoying his life and they knew it was because of her.

So Derek waking up, fanged out, claws emerged was enough to send cold shivers of fear down Stiles’ back. It could only be something bad.

“What is it?” he asked his mate, pushing calm and wakefulness toward his mate.

“Danger is on the way,” Derek panted. “Danger toward you, my Own.” His red eyes were tinted with real fear.

“It was a dream, baby. I’m okay,” Stiles insisted, running his hands down Derek’s face, letting him feel Stiles was fine.

Shaking his head, Derek pulled Stiles closer to him, putting his head on his sweet mate’s chest to feel his heartbeat, to feel he was safe.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s head, aching inside to feel such fear from his strong alpha mate. “Alpha. I’m alright. Whatever it is, we will beat it. We have a powerful pack and I am an even more powerful Alpha Spark mated to the biggest, baddest Alpha Wolf in the world,” Stiles said, his words strong but ending lightly, trying to make his mate smile.

Derek came out of his Stiles cave and gave him a smile, eyes green once more. “Damn right,” he growled. “But I still want to talk to the pack. Now.”

Knowing when it was time to be serious, Stiles nodded. “I’ll send out an alert.” With that, he closed his eyes and sent out a mental alert that all pack members needed to report to the house within an hour for a possible threat and emergency.

He got a positive response from them all, told Derek, and walked his mate into the bathroom and into the shower. Stiles reminded him. “Don’t forget, we can tell who the baddies are now.” A week after Jackson and his cohorts had been arrested, Parrish had sent him a series of pictures asking if he knew what the hell was going on. Every one of the bullies had what looked like a brown stain on their temples. Once you looked closely, you could see the mark was actually a brown leaf. Different leaves; a poison ivy leaf, one of oak, and one of nettle. As Stiles was puzzling over it, Nemeton had let him know it was an ancient way for all creatures to know when someone has harmed or intended to harm a Protected One. It was the worst marking in the supernatural kingdom and all would know once more who the enemy was.

The reminder eased Derek some and he was able to set his fear aside for the moment and concentrate on his mate.

Stiles awarded him with a blow job aimed at melting his ability to think. Learning about his body from the Nemeton was surprisingly helpful when it came to shutting down his gag reflex. He was able to take Derek all the way down which made his mate’s eyes cross.

By the time, Stiles was making brunch, Derek was hanging over his shoulder, eyes at half-mast as he sipped his coffee. The nightmare was still haunting him and he couldn’t stand to be too far from Stiles. But Derek was content to follow him around the kitchen, listening to Stiles hum as he cooked. His mate was talented in the kitchen which helped when Laura wasn’t available. By the time everyone arrived, the table was filled with eggs Benedict, steaks, country fried potatoes, and various sandwich makings and fruits. The pack fell on the feast and ate up, the mood light but without the usual joviality.

“I had a dream,” Derek began when everyone was finished and the table was clear. “Someone is coming to the pack lands. Someone intent on doing harm to Stiles. I need a guard detail of at least four on the house at all times. Pack funds will make up for what you lose in pay.” That got him a glare.

“If you seriously think any of us are worried about that, you need your ass kicked,” Laura said with a frown. Only his twin could get away with talking to him like that, though the others obviously agreed.

“I will set up a rotation,” Peter butted in before the twins could go at it. This was his territory anyway. “Those with any schedule concerns, come see me, otherwise you’ll get your rotation assignment within the hour. Anyone who can stay home now, make your necessary phone calls and let me know. Kira, Liam, continue your homeschool lessons, you can run the perimeter with Erica and Boyd this evening.”

In the end, Laura, Malia, Cora, Erica and Boyd stayed home while the rest returned to work. For all her teasing, Laura was extremely protective of her big brother - by two minutes - and refused to be away from him.

Lydia and Stiles meditated in the library with both their mates nearby. Neither could leave them so they spent their time calling allies to see if any new danger had been dealt with. While it seemed like some packs had the feeling they were being followed, there had been no danger or incidents to share.

Stiles was deep in his core, experimenting how to manipulate the Spark, reaching out further and further from himself so he could be an early warning system for his family.

It was because of this that he was able to alert his family to the fact they would be having company a good fifteen minutes before the security cameras on the border of the packlands would pick them up.

“They’re almost here,” Stiles said, hopping up, pulling Lydia by her hands. “Twenty, maybe thirty minutes.”

“Do you know who it is? Do they look familiar?” Peter asked, his eyes glowing blue, his hands instantly on his mate.

Stiles swallowed hard at having to admit he did know who the unknown enemy was. The ones who wanted to hurt him in particular. He knew one of them so well, at one time, he called him ‘brother’.

“Scott McCall and Allison Argent,” he said, looking down and working hard to collect himself.

“Allison? Why?” Lydia demanded.

“She comes from a long line of Purists and werewolf hunters,” Peter said, his voice intent as he filled in what Stiles couldn’t bring himself to say. “She turned Scott against Stiles back when he and Derek first discovered they were mates.” Peter turned and sent out a message to the wolves to be waiting at the border to the packlands to escort the enemies in so they couldn’t try anything.

Lydia was at once pissed and confused. “But Scott was okay’d to receive a werewolf blood infusion last year. It cleared up some sickness he had. Asthma, wasn’t it?”

Stiles nodded. “He couldn’t do anything without breaking out into an asthma attack. Hell, if he went down the stairs in his house too fast, he could have an asthma attack. They got progressively worse until his mom finally applied for the infusion. He was in perfect health after that. Turned out, he was quite a jock. He tried out for nearly every sport Beacon Hills offered,” Stiles said, shaking his head. He remembered clearly how excited he was for Scott. How he was there for every tryout, every practice Scott had, a proud sports mom. “When Derek and I met and became a couple, Allison talked with me about how much danger I was in, how Derek would probably hurt me without meaning to.” He caught Lydia’s eye roll and nodded. “I told her she obviously didn’t understand anything about mates, much less werewolves as a whole. Scott got pissed and defended her and they stopped contact with me after that.”

Lydia looked through her phone. “I haven’t heard from her since the first body I found around the time my abilities began.” Her dark green eyes were sad. “She probably hates me now.”

“I’m not sure how she feels,” Stiles said. “But given how her family believes about were-creatures, I would probably not expect her to be too accepting.”

Nodding, Lydia moved to the window, arms wrapped around herself. Peter came up behind her and embraced her, whispering words into her ear to comfort her before they turned to head down to the front room.

Derek grabbed Stiles by the hand and led him downstairs. “Do you know what their intent is?”

Stiles shook his head. “I only know they aren’t coming in the spirit of brotherhood or any kind of shit like that. I think if they wanted to attack us, Lydia would feel it. She is honing her skills and I’m sure she’ll be able to tell. Especially as they get closer.”

“I’m not feeling anything,” Lydia said. “Like you said, I think I’d be able to tell. My lessons with Nina on connecting with my inner Banshee have really helped.”

Stiles shot her a proud smile and walked to the front door, opening it and standing directly in the middle of the doorway. Laying one hand above him on the doorjamb and one on the side of the door frame, he closed his eyes. In his mind’s eye, he called forth protection in the form of symbols burnt into the wood so deep, the wood reformed around it until no symbol was left visible. He had never seen the symbols before but knew he would remember them and record them in the journal he had begun for the pack. Maybe Deaton would know what the symbols were. As he set the protection spell into the very wood of the house, he sent it throughout the house, the wards setting in each window and doorway from attic to basement, even into the secret passageways. The wards protected the house from someone with evil intent entering. It also protected those already in the house from attack in case someone did get in. Stiles also put a ward into place which would, with a flick of his Spark, eject someone from the house. He couldn’t wait to see it work. It would be like the person couldn’t control their body, they would be compelled to leave and leave quickly, no matter what they were doing at the time. While he was eager enough to see it that he would try and get one of his packmates to agree to be a guinea pig, the person would never be able to come back into the house and would be physically marked in some way to make them visible and hard to miss. It could be in the form of the leaf like the bullies. Maybe a giant red D on their forehead for Douche. Or a giant cock painted on their cheek to stand for Dickhead. Who knew what Stiles’ Spark would dream up?

The wards complete, Stiles stepped in and closed the door. There it was, like a whisper across his skin. They were protected even beyond fang and claw. The house was a castle, a fortress of protection.

Lydia and their mates all shivered and looked at him askance. “I set wards at the doors and windows to protect whoever was here. Nobody can come in with evil intent or stay inside if they make it a sudden decision to harm us,” Stiles said, giving the short version.

Derek’s eyes glowed red and he stalked up to his mate and kissed Stiles, his lips hard and hot. “I love that you protect our pack,” he rumbled.

Stiles gave him a wicked smirk and a wink. “I’m all over it, mate wolf. Nobody will fuck with our family.”

“Nobody,” Derek agreed and bent Stiles backward for another kiss, his tongue hot on Stiles’ lips and in his mouth. Gaining a whimper from his magical mate, Derek smiled against that plush mouth. “I love you for loving our pack so much.”

“Mm, and I love that you love me for loving our pack. Show me again,” Stiles muttered, his eyes glued to Derek’s lips.

“They’re on the drive,” Peter reported after his phone beeped.

Derek stood Stiles up and the room was suddenly fuller, every available wolf joining them. “I want the young wolves upstairs in my room,” the Alpha commanded. Liam and Kyra nodded and headed off. “Malia and Cora, one of you in the kitchen, one in the hallway. Isaac, you are in the library. The pups are your responsibility. Erica and Boyd will guard the doors. The four of us and Laura and Milo will be in here, dealing with McCall and Argent. If an alarm is raised, you will defend and minimize the threat. Unconscious, not dead, to the best of your ability. And nobody, I mean, nobody refers to Stiles as the Spark. We will hide this from them until we can’t any longer. Clear?” Everyone agreed and went to their places.

Stiles turned to Lydia when Derek was done and the wolves dispersed. “Allison will try every trick in her bag to get you to agree to any number of things. Leave the pack. Leave Peter, if you make your relationship known. Even down to having someone, a religious leader, like one of those Universal Way of Light freaks remove the ‘evil powers’ from you. That’s what they did to me. Well, they suggested I consult one to see how I could be freed from the horrid syndrome of having a wolf mate.” He rolled his eyes. “I know you’re good under pressure, I just want you to be ready for anything that happens.”

Shaking her head at the utter bullshit of Stiles’ words, Lydia gave him a grim smile. “I appreciate the heads up. And you can damn sure bet I will be introducing her to Peter. Maybe even with his claws out.” Her full red lips slashed in a wicked grin. “I will take no shit from this girl. Sure it all has a root in being raised by hate, but I won’t take it from her.”

“That’s good to know because they are off the main road onto the driveway. ETA three to five minutes,” Laura said, eyes on the driveway in front of the house.

Peter gave his mate a kiss and looked at her, eyes calm and serious. “You don’t have to claim me in front of her, my beauty. It will only cause more problems with your friend.”

Lydia glared at her mate and put her sharp red fingernail at the base of his throat. “I will never forsake you; I will always proudly display my mate to others. Do not ever make that offer again. Are we clear?”

His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head with the heat those harsh words caused in him, he rumbled affirmatively. He wished they could leave and have this conversation in their room. (Their room! He still thrilled at the new terms.) “Anything you say, my beauty.”

“That’s more like it,” Lydia gave a smirk, eyes promising him all the pleasure he could handle once their chore was done with.

“I will lead the conversation, but as soon as one of them makes it personal, feel free to take over,” Derek said, his eyes Alpha red.

“Yes Alpha,” they all replied, even Stiles. He knew there were times when the Alpha of the pack needed things to be done a certain way and he respected that. Off topic, he loved the powerplay in the bedroom. Derek always got hot when Stiles used and meant the terms of Alpha-hood.

Derek’s phone beeped with the sound of the walkie-talkie app and they heard Boyd’s voice from the border of the packlands. “Silver Mercedes sedan registered to one Allison Argent. In the vehicle, two people, identified upon recognition as Allison Argent and Scott McCall. We did not see any weapons, but Erica is sure she got a whiff of wolfsbane and iron.”

Lydia gasped, her already porcelain skin growing paler. Iron was the Banshee’s wolfsbane, only worse. Peter gripped her tightly to him. This wasn’t going to be pretty if Allison or Scott tried to act against Lydia. Peter was the Left Hand. He knew how to effectively kill, hide, and cover up any enemy of the pack. Iron was known to harm Banshee, burning their skin and could even put them into a coma. In the old days, they didn’t understand comas, so they thought iron killed Banshee. If Lydia were to get stabbed with iron, it could be near fatal.

Feeling his Spark start to swirl angrily under his skin, eyes glowing violet, Stiles walked to his friend, his dear friend. A woman whom he’d always had affection for, since they’d first met in kindergarten, the beautiful, intelligent child who could discuss his chapter books with him. He may not be a Left Hand, but he would not be crossed. His people would not be harmed. “Hold her steady,” he instructed Peter, his voice echoing the deeper tone of his Spark. He pulled in the feeling he’d summoned when he’d placed the ward on the door and the house. Pulling it, twisting it, manipulating it, he placed one hand on top of Lydia’s head, the other over her heart chakra. With a nod from Peter, he visualized scooped the warding up into a ball and with a hard shove, he pushed it into Lydia, covering her heart and mind until it was accepted inside her. As soon as her Banshee realized she was being protected, the warding was sucked in like life water and spread throughout her body.

Stiles stepped back with a deep breath and nodded. “That won’t do much if you were to get stabbed, but iron won’t burn you and even a cut shouldn’t do any harm.”

They were all staring at Stiles. “What?”

Derek shook his head as if to clear it. “Stiles, we saw this ball of light form in your chest and then get pushed inside Lydia. That was amazing.”

Impressed with himself, Stiles laughed. “That’s awesome! That’s what I saw too. Sorry if I pushed too hard on you, Lyds. I had to make sure it got in there and we don’t have time to go about it the slow way.”

“They’re here,” Laura called from the library which had the best view of the front of the house. She leapt over the banister which she herself usually frowned upon, but none of them questioned now.

With a nod, Derek walked to the door and opened it before Scott’s raised hand had been able to knock. Derek was fully in Alpha mode and had no problem intimidating the two measly humans that had come intending to do harm to his family. He glared at them, letting them see the red tint to his eyes that showed around the green of his iris.

“Derek, hey man. I was hoping to talk with Stiles,” Scott McCall said, voice full of fake joviality.

“Alpha. Hale.” Derek’s tone sharp and commanding.

Stile had heard that tone before, it was so low it felt like the words were beating into you like loud music at a club. It kind of made him hot too, but this wasn’t the time.

“I’m sorry?” Scott was confused. No big shock there.

“He wants us to refer to him as Alpha Hale,” Allison said, voice soft, eyes taking in everything.

Scott snorted. Then he looked at Allison and back to Derek who hadn’t even twitched a muscle. “Really?”

She nodded to him. “It is his right as this is his land.”

Stiles, who could just barely see what was happening caught the bad move of his former best friend rolling his eyes.

“Fine. Mr. Alpha Hale, may we please speak to Stiles,” he said, not holding off the snotty tone very well.

“Alpha Mate,” Derek corrected.

Scott snorted again and didn’t resist chuckling. This got Stiles pissed. The ignorant kid had no respect.

Allison put her hand on Scott’s arm and shook her head at him. She’d obviously been trained by her father. “Alpha Hale, may we please have a moment of the Alpha Mate’s time?”

Derek looked like he wanted to slam the door closed just to piss off Scott, but Stiles signaled to Derek to let them in. They didn’t need things to be any rougher than they would be already. If it was just a matter of Stiles being in the line of fire, that was one thing. Add in Lydia and the rest of the pack, the threat was unacceptable.

Holding the door open, Derek waved them through and into the formal living room. Lydia and Stiles were sitting on the love seat and Laura was sitting on the other couch, Milo next to her. The lawyer was always there on the off chance the pack had need of legal advice or a verified threat. Milo was awesome once he got going.

Allison held in her shock at the full room and took a seat in one of the two armchairs. Scott couldn’t hide anything and did a really attractive interpretation of a fish dying from lack of oxygen.

As if they’d agreed to do so beforehand, once Peter and Derek were seated on the arms of the loveseat their mates were on, the six supernaturals just stared at the two interlopers. They had no need or desire to make them feel comfortable or start any kind of discussion. It was up to them.

“Hey, Stiles, how are you?” Scott asked, looking around at everyone, so far out of his depth it was laughable.

“Fine.” That was all Stiles would give him.

Scott looked taken aback... Again. “Uh, what’s new? I heard you dropped out of school.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “I’m not that stupid, Scott. I graduated early. I’ll be attending Oxford in the spring.”

“Oxford?” Scott had never heard of it apparently.

“Number four university in the world,” Lydia announced with a smirk to Stiles, who winked at her.

“That’s wonderful, Stiles,” Allison said, her tone genuine.

“Thank you. Miss Modesty over there is going to the number one college in the world,” Stiles said, his pride for his friend evident. He saw Scott’s continued clueless expression. “M.I.T, Scott. Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Probably the hardest college to get into in the entire world.”

Scott’s mouth was hanging open. “Wow. Great job, guys. That’s, um, really great.”

“Yeah, congratulations you two, those are amazing schools,” Allison added.

With that, the room went silent again. The wolves rarely blinked and the constant eye contact was making their guests edgy.

Scott cleared his throat. “Stiles, I came here today, well, we came here today because we are worried about you.”

Stiles eyebrows raised. He wished he could give a Defcon three level eyebrow raise, but he wasn’t gifted with the amazing brows his mate had. “Oh really. Worried why?”

“Well, I know you were upset that I started going out with Allison, that you didn’t like her taking your place in my life,” Scott said, looking like he was about to start lecturing Stiles.

Holding up a hand, Stiles shook his head. “Alright, hold on. If you are going to start blathering utter bullshit, you can just walk your lying ass right back out that door. You know for a fact that I questioned Allison’s place in your life because she comes from a family of Purists and you were healed from asthma, a disease that was killing you, I might add. You were healed by freaking werewolf blood. Laura’s, if I’m remembering right,” Stiles glanced at Laura who nodded. “I had no problem with you having a girlfriend, I was excited for you because that’s how friends react. I showed my concern and you said that you could change her heart. How’s that working, buddy?”

Derek’s hand rested on his shoulder and Stiles felt love and calm flow through their mate bond. He patted Derek’s hand and breathed in the calm until his heart settled.

“I guess I’m the one that has been doing the changing,” Scott admitted. “I think, and please don’t let your alpha kill me, but I think being here is bad for you. You are getting in too deep with the supernaturals. It’s not good for you.”

Stiles considered Scott. His friend really believed everything he was saying.

Peter, meanwhile, was snickering next to Lydia, who smacked her mate on the arm.

“Lydia,” Allison said. “I came here today because I’m worried about you, too. I know some odd things have been happening to you lately and I think we have some things that can help you.”

“First things first,” Laura said. “Do you know why Alpha Hale had you refer to Stiles as Alpha Mate?”

“Because they are mates, right?” Scott asked.

“And because I am now the official Alpha Mate,” Stiles said, flashing his glowing whiskey eyes at Scott, who promptly jumped, his face instantly twisted in disgust.

“You’re a wolf now?”

“And damn proud to be,” Stiles said, his voice echoing with his wolf.

“I am a Banshee. That is why those odd things have been happening. Nothing I need help with from you,” Lydia said to Allison.

“What is it do you think you can do to ‘help’ Lydia, Allison?” Peter asked, scooting closer to his mate, wanting to literally cover her with his body. His strong mate would either laugh at his attempt or coo at him thinking he was adorable. Damn, she was hot.

Allison clenched her hands so tight in her lap, her fingers were red. “Maybe this is something I can speak to Lydia about in private.”

“I don’t think so. Anything you want to say to or about my pack will be done in front of me. My sister is my Right Hand and Milo is our family lawyer,” Derek said, eyebrows at Defcon two, and red eyes narrowed at the threat of separating his pack members.

“Why’s he here then,” Scott tilted his crooked chin at Peter.

“His name is Peter Hale and he is my mate,” Lydia said, pride in every word. “Anything you have to say will be said right here and right now in front of him and my family or you can leave.”

“Your family? Lydia, these are all werewolves. What do you think they need you for?” Allison had decided to go for the throat. Though she did give lawyer Milo the side eye.

“They don’t need me, dear Allison. They are gifted with me,” Lydia said, tilting her head to the side, bright red lips pursed with displeasure. The Red Queen.

Stiles and Derek nodded. Laura chirped out a loud ‘Damn right!’ and Milo gave her a respectful head nod.

Peter looked down at her, awe and utter adoration in his gaze. “Gift is not nearly a strong enough word, my beauty. But yes, you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Allison, hard hearted, prejudiced bitch that she was even gave a soft sigh at the display of real love in front of her. She wondered if Scott would ever stick up for her like that. “Lydia, while I think that is all wonderful and I’m happy for you that you have found a partner...”

“Mate,” Peter barked out, eyes glowing blue with rage at the disrespect.

“I’m happy you’ve found your mate,” Allison corrected. “But using these powers is only going to bring you pain and death.”

Peter and Derek both jumped up, growling and beta shifted.

“Death? What the hell do you mean death?” Derek roared.

“Are you threatening my mate, you loathsome bitch?” Peter growled, claws and fangs out and ready.

Allison shrank down in her chair, tears of fear in her eyes.

Laura stood and waved to the wolves to sit. She was going to play good cop. “I’m sure that Allison wasn’t trying to threaten your mate, Peter. Right, Allison?”

“No, no of course not,” Allison said, hands up and eyes wide.

Derek and Peter shifted back to their human faces and returned to their places beside their mates. It had been fun to scare the little girl.

Swallowing hard, Allison continued. “I meant that the more you use and grow your Banshee powers, the more death you will be exposed to. I remember how scared you were after that first body you found. The UWOL, the Universal Way of Light can help you with that. They have ways to harness your power and contain it so it doesn’t ruin you.” She obviously wasn’t watching Lydia’s reaction or anyone else’s because she kept speaking. “You’d benefit from a containment ritual the disciples do. They have been very successful in dampening supernatural power. Even some werewolves have successfully had their wolves removed.” Her voice was getting louder and more impassioned. She took pamphlets out of her bag and laid them all out on the table, hands trembling the whole time. “All you would need to do is come with me and I can take you there today, right now! By tonight, you could be a normal teenage girl. And Stiles, you could be a regular guy. I’m sure having these powers is very intoxicating, but it’s wrong. Being a werewolf is wrong. You have to know that.”

Scott was nodding along with her. “She’s right. I wish I could go back and refuse the werewolf blood. But I had a cleansing ritual from the UWOL and I feel loads better. I’m not faster anymore, I’m normal now.”

Stiles stood. “You come into my house, my home and tell me and my mate that we are wrong, that we need to erase what makes us us? You tell Lydia that she needs to have her power erased? You really are sick, Allison. I thought you were just confused and misled, but you honestly believe all the bullshit you just spouted off. I don’t want you, either of you, near my family. Miles, I want restraining orders for every single member of this pack against these two. I no longer feel comfortable having them in my home. Am I alone here?”

Lydia joined him. “You aren’t alone. Allison, I hope one day you will wake up. This world isn’t made one way. There are different things everywhere. Different plants, animals, people, and even different magical beings. My being a Banshee doesn’t make me any better or worse than anyone else. Just different. And you know what, I’ve already saved a life,” Lydia’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat before continuing. “I’ve been honing my abilities and now I can help people before they die. Why would I want to give that up?”

“Because it’s unnatural and wrong,” Scott cried, rising and taking Allison’s hand. “You aren’t supposed to have powers.”

“And you aren’t supposed to be a bigoted asshole, but I guess we don’t get everything we want. I think it’s time you go,” Stiles said.

“Just listen, Stiles. You are nothing special. You need to get that through your head before you get hurt,” Scott said, stepping closer.

Derek jumped in front of Stiles, growling low. “Do not speak of my mate that way ever again.”

Peter moved forward as well. “You paltry little man, don’t put your insignificance on other people. You are nothing, you’ll always be nothing. If you come in here and threaten my mate again, I will have you thrown in jail. Or maybe you won’t make it that far,” Peter said, his terrifying, yet bland smile showing his fangs.

Pulling together his swirling Spark, Stiles knew he needed to have control or something would blow up and that might just be literal at this point. Instead, he called upon the wards of the house. Stepping up next to his mate, his eyes bled violet and he saw Scott’s immediate shock. Smirking with a hint of fang, Stiles rubbed his hands together before pulling them apart. He let his former friend see the energy crackling between his hands. “Your invitation to our home has been revoked Mr. McCall and Miss Argent,” his voice echoed. Allison cringed and trembled at the double tone. He clapped his hands together, the sound reverberating and echoing through the house.

Allison and Scott both jolted, their bodies vibrating against their will. With eerie shakes and tremors, they walked backward to the door. They appeared to be fighting the wards, but their legs and knees still lifted and bent, moving them toward the exit. It was like those horror movies with the creepy people who moved all, well, creepy.

“What are you doing to us? How is this happening?” Scott shouted, brown eyes wide with terror.

“I’m just seeing you to the door, old buddy. And if you think this is scary,” Stiles said, fangs descending and claws coming out as his eyes glowed with violet sparks. He deepened his voice and let the full echo of his power be heard. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”

With that, he shoved them out the door with a single nudge of power and slammed the door, locking it securely.

As soon as the locks slid home, he collapsed, Derek catching him the moment before he landed.

“Stiles! Are you okay?” he demanded, taking him over to the couch.

Stiles waved him off. “I’m okay, Alpha. I just used a bit too much juice. What’s going on?” he asked Peter who was watching at the window.

Peter looked back at him and grinned. “Well, I’m pretty sure McCall pissed himself a little, if I smell it right. But they ran off the porch and now they are sitting in the car looking like they just found out Santa was actually satan.”

Chuckling, Stiles nodded. “I approve. I will happily be satan in their little world. Maybe they’ll be scared enough to stay the hell away.”

Giving him a crooked grin, Peter shook his head. “I rather like this bloodthirsty side of you.” He got out his phone and notified the betas outside that the car was leaving and to follow it to see where they headed next.

"I'm hungry," Stiles said. "What's for lunch?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this so much. I hope you liked it too! Let me know!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finds himself grieving and wondering if he was really honoring his father by moving on with his life. He is then given the gift of a lifetime.

Derek hadn’t seen his mate in a few hours and needed to fix it. They had spent the last couple of days relaxing together, recharging Stiles’ Spark batteries after the events of The Invaders. Stiles liked to call them that, it helped him separate the guy who’d been his friend all his life and the automaton that showed up at their doorstep wanting to do them harm.

Unable to find Stiles, he stood still in the library and listened for his heart among the heartbeats of the rest of the pack, most who’d stayed close to make sure there were no more surprises. Following the sound that beat within him, he found Stiles outside on the balcony connected to their bedroom. His mate was sitting cross-legged on a chaise, eyes shuttered and mouth turned down.

“My Own, I was missing you,” Derek said coming over and sitting next to him, wrapping a long arm around him. “Tell me what’s troubling you.”

Stiles took a trembling breath. “We did a pretty awesome thing, didn’t we?”

“Yeah we did. You did. You were amazing. I don’t think there’ll ever be a time I’m not amazed by you, my brilliant mate,” he said, voice soft and gentle. His mate would get to the point of his pain when he was ready.

“You know who would’ve loved what we did?” Stiles voice shook.

“Who, my Own?” Derek’s heart was already starting to break for him.

“My dad,” he said, voice breaking, sounding so very young in that moment. “My dad would’ve thought that was the coolest thing ever. He would’ve smacked Scott upside the head and told him to get his head out of his ass. But he would’ve loved that eviction spell.” Tears overflowed his sorrowful golden eyes. “But he’s not here and he’ll never be here again,” he sobbed.

“Oh, my sweet mate,” Derek said, pulling Stiles to him, so he could enclose him in his arms. “No, he isn’t here. But he loved you so deeply, Stiles. He would be so proud of you and so happy for all that you’ve done with your life.”

“But I haven’t exactly been spending days all morose and crying and grieving. What if he thinks I’ve forgotten him? Shouldn’t I be crying more? Wailing and tearing my clothes?” Stiles looked up at him, teary and despondent.

Derek looked at that precious face and saw a desperation for Derek to make it all better and he just didn’t have an answer. He still grieved his own parents and had the same worries and sorrow that Stiles was dealing with. He wasn’t one to ask for emotional answers. “I don’t think your dad would want you absolutely miserable, my Own. Would you want him doing that if the tables were turned?”

Stiles slumped and knuckled at his eyes. “No. But maybe a little sad.”

Derek was at a loss. Where was someone wiser when he needed them?

Speak and you will receive.

Send him to me. Tell him to follow his feet and I will ease his sorrow.

Jolting at the sound of the Nemeton speaking to him, he then relaxed and smiled. Thank you, Nemeton. You bless us with your compassion. “My Own, the Nemeton calls for you. Follow your feet and Nemeton will ease you.”

Stiles sat up and looked at his mate. A tremulous smile broke out on his beloved face. “I knew you would have the answer.”

Shaking his head, Derek could only smile. “I did nothing more than pass on a message.”

Long, beautiful fingers traced down his cheek. “If you were not concentrated on my grief and wanting to truly help me, you would not have heard Nemeton speaking to you. So thank you, my love.”

Stiles placed a soft kiss on Derek’s always eager lips.

His mates plush lips were unbelievably soft and darker pink from crying. They felt incredible though he didn’t want this to be a regular thing. Derek wanted to see his mate smile, though, so he appealed to his knowledge base. “Why are your lips so soft and pink after crying?”

He got his grin, just as he’d wanted. Stiles perked up a bit. “I’m so glad you asked because I’ve actually looked into it. You get extra blood flow to your mouth - and eyes, beeteedubs - when you cry resulting in softer, more full looking and redder looking lips. Isn’t that amazing?”

“You’re amazing,” Derek said, sneaking in one last kiss. “Now off with you. Come find me when you come back.”

“I love you mate-wolf,” Stiles said, a glimmer to his still sad eyes.

“And I love you, my Own,” he replied.

. . . . . .

Stiles wondered what Nemeton meant by follow his feet, so he just wandered into the woods and began walking in no general direction.

He wondered what his dad would think of him being the One. A tiny smile lifted the corner of his mouth. His dad would smack him on the shoulder and tell him not to accidentally mess up and bring dinosaurs back. Noah Stilinski had a way of keeping Stiles centered. He would’ve had no problem keeping his son humble and on the right path.

Stiles’ breathing hitched and he wrapped his arms around himself. He missed his father so much it hurt to breathe. All he wanted was a trademark Stilinski hug right now.

Tears streaming down his face again, he couldn’t see well enough to go on, so he found a beautiful maple tree and sat down against its perfectly formed trunk, as if it was made just for his back.

Nemeton, it hurts, he told his guardian.

I know, young one. It is hard to lose our loved ones. Nemeton has lost more than we should ever lose and it never gets easier. But I bring you a gift, to ease your heart and bring back the joy you deserve.

Stiles looked around, waiting to see what was going to happen. A kitty to snuggle? Curly fries growing out of the ground?

“You never do anything halfway, do you, kid?” A familiar voice said, tone dry and amused.

Stiles jumped up and looked to the right. Out from behind a nearby tree stepped his dad. “Dad?” He rubbed at his eyes. “Is this real?”

Your father is not with the living. But here the veil has lifted for a short time. Enjoy your visit.

A whimper ripped from his throat. “Nemeton. Thank you,” Stiles whispered and ran to his father. It was perfect. His father caught him, as he always had, squeezing him firmly, the makings of a trademark Stilinski hug where you knew you were loved and safe. “Dad. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know you have, kiddo. I’ve missed you, too,” Noah Stilinski said, his voice rumbling through his chest and into Stiles’, filling up his aching heart.

“Dad… it feels so good to say that again,” Stiles said, leaning away and looking at his dad. Those blue eyes looking at him, deep crow’s feet at the corners, always slightly amused, always proud and full of love. The smell of gun oil and his forest scented deodorant. He wasn’t in his uniform, but in his favorite flannel and jeans. His dad on a weekend when they might go camping or have a movie marathon. “Dad, I’m so sorry if I haven’t grieved you enough, or… or properly.”

Just as he might when he was living, Stiles got a smack upside the back of his head. “Now isn’t that just about the silliest thing to apologize for? First, there are no rules for grieving. How you react is just that, how you react. For you, you’ve thrown yourself into your new life and that makes me so freaking happy.” Noah smiled, his eyes crinkling with joy. “To see you settled with Derek - tell him I said hi and I love him - is all I could have hoped for. I don’t want you locked in your room crying and locked in the past. I want you out there, living the life you were meant to live.” Noah quirked an eyebrow. “Granted, this life is a bit crazier than the one I thought you would be living, Mr. The One.” Stiles laughed, a true joyful laugh. “But, Stiles, I always knew you were special. Now the world is going to see it too.”

Stiles lit up. “You’ve been able to see what’s happened?”

Noah shook his hand back and forth. “I’ve seen some highlights. You wouldn’t want me to see everything. But I’ve seen my son get a werewolf bite and frolic around the forest as a fox. I’ve seen you get the shit beaten out of you and then seen you heal yourself.” He put his hand on Stiles’ cheek. “I saw you mentor Lydia and help her see her path more clearly. I watched you grow a freaking tree from a stump. And I just recently saw you give Scott McCall the magical ass kicking he deserved. I don’t know what went wrong with that floppy-haired idiot, but he got what he deserved. I was cheering you on.”

Stiles beamed with pleasure, his aching heart soothed knowing his dad was proud of him. “Thanks Dad. What about you? Are you happy? Is that a thing wherever you were?”

“I’ve been busy myself. Take a look,” his dad nodded to the side and Stiles looked behind him, his stomach instantly in knots.

She stepped out from behind a tree, her chestnut hair up in a high ponytail. Her honey brown eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were pink with health. She was wearing her favorite white gypsy top with her faded Levi’s. A delighted smile lifted her full lips. “Mischief,” she said, her warm voice so familiar it made him ache.

“Mama,” he whispered as he ran to her. Picking her up in his arms, he spun her around before putting her down and clinging desperately to her lean frame. He couldn’t help the sobs that broke from his chest. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know, my love, I know you have,” Claudia Stilinski said, tucking Stiles against her, despite his height and rocking him back and forth. “I’ve watched over you as well and I am so sorry you were hurt when I was passing. I was so confused there at the last and I know some of the things I said and did have stuck with you and I want you to let it go now. I was not in my right mind, my brain was almost melting. I love you, I’ve always loved you and wanted you, and I’ve always known you are my beloved child, my Mischief.” She leaned him back and met his eyes. “Do you hear me?”

He grinned. His mom was laying down the law. It was so frickin’ awesome. “Yes, mom, I hear you. I love you, too.” His smile died. “I’m sorry I couldn’t heal you.”

Claudia pulled away, keeping hold of his hand. “Come, let’s sit and talk about some things.”

She led them back to the maple tree Stiles had been sitting against and the three of them sat cross-legged in a triangle, the Stilinski clan reunited once more.

“Stiles, my passing was my fate before any of our family line was even born.” She squeezed his hand. “It was always leading to you, my little Mischief. Always. You and your path.”

This was the time to share everything. “Mom, there is so much expected of me. What if I can’t do it all?”

Looking into his mom’s eyes, he gasped when they turned violet. She lifted her hands and they sparked; she held them out to him. Calling up his Spark, he knew his eyes now matched. He called up his power into his hands and took hold of his mom’s hands.

Stiles jumped when the world around them changed. He had no idea where they were, but the sky was bright blue and the trees were huge and healthy. There were winged creatures flying in the sky that he’d never seen before. Other creatures laughed and danced on the ground, as if celebrating something wonderful. There were elves and fae, goblins and sprites. The fascinating rock creatures were setting a barrier for a bonfire. Humans were scattered throughout, laughing and drinking and eating with the different species. It was wondrous.

“This is us, Mischief, born through you,” Claudia said and let go of his hands, the world returning to normal. “You can do this and you will because I know you can. Your will, your Spark, and your spirit are so strong, my son. Strong enough for this task, otherwise, it wouldn’t have been given to you.”

Stiles was thrown. That world had been like what he imagined heaven must be like. He was going to put that into motion?

“Do you trust me? Your father? Nemeton?” His mom asked, her face stern.

He nodded immediately. “Of course, Mom!”

“Then don’t doubt what we tell you,” Claudia said, brow lifted into Firm Mom Look.

“Yes, mom,” he said automatically, as any sane kid did when faced with that look.

Claudia smiled and stood, Stiles and Noah following suit. “Now give us hugs, our time is short and it’s time I get your father to move on with me. Can you let him go for me? He’s been stubbornly hanging on.”

Stiles looked at his dad, smiling at the love in his blue eyes. “Dad, I’m so glad to know you’ve been able to see my life, but it’s time to move on. Don’t make me smack you upside the head. You’ve got Mom now, just like you’ve always wanted. Go on, enjoy your retirement,” Stiles said with a grin.

The three shared a laugh and Stiles was the one who got smacked.

He leaned in and hugged his mom tight, reveling in the familiar feel of her soft arms making him feel young and so very safe. “I love you, my Mischief. Live fierce and free, beloved.”

“I will, Mom, I promise.”

She released him and pushed him at his dad who had tears sparkling in his eyes.

“Come here, kiddo,” he said. They crushed each other, pounding the other’s back and sharing a laugh. “I love you, Stiles, and I am so damn proud of you. Stay strong and connected with your pack. They’ll keep you centered. And humble,” his dad said, giving him a little shove when they separated.

“I don’t think arrogance will be a problem with the pack in my life,” Stiles said wryly.

“Good. That’s the fastest way to screw up,” Noah said.

His parents joined hands.

“Mom, Dad,” he called, desperately before they could disappear. “I love you. Thank you,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “Thank you for this wonderful life.”

“We love you, too, Mieczysław,” Noah said, a broad grin on his face.

“We love you, Mischief. Oh, and congrats on your mate, he’s a total babe!” Claudia said with a wink.

“Claudia Stilinski,” Noah said, scandalized.

Stiles laughed, a free, full laugh of love and completion. “I love you both.”

Claudia grinned. “Come on, law man, let’s go celebrate eternity. Be happy, Mischief.”

“I will, Mom,” he said with a grin.

“I love you, son. You are everything I have ever wanted for you and more. Be good. Unless you don’t have to be,” his dad said with a matching grin.

“Until another time, Mischief,” Claudia whispered, the sound seeming to surround him in warmth and love.

The two faded as they walked behind a tree, the leaves rustling in a gentle goodbye.

Stiles stood there, staring at the tree, half hoping they might come out the other side, but he knew they wouldn’t. Expecting grief to come back and rip him apart, he was pleasantly surprised when all he felt was incredible joy at the gift he was given.

Concentrating inside, he sent a wave of gratitude toward Nemeton. “Thank you from the depths of my soul,” he whispered.

You are welcome, child.

Stiles sighed happily, everything in him feeling settled and at peace. Knowing his parents were together, at peace, and pleased with him, eased all the grief and uncertainty inside him. He was ready to face his future head on with the full support of his parents.

He grinned. He’d seen his parents. Wait until he told Derek! Hurrying toward the house, Stiles’ steps were light until a thought occurred to him.

He’d had a monumental event that fulfilled all the uncertainty and grief inside him. Derek didn’t get that. He didn’t even know what happened to his parents other than that they died. How cruel would it be to wave his amazing visit in his mate’s face knowing his mate wasn’t able to have the same experience? Pausing in the woods, he concentrated on his Spark. He wanted to give this gift to his mate. It couldn’t happen yet. Somehow he knew it was because of the mystery behind their deaths.

Stiles set his shoulders. Alright. He would give his mate a glossed over version of events. Then he would solve the murder of Talia and Asher Hale. Woe to whoever was responsible. Stiles was going to bring justice. Then he was going to bring the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sending virtual hugs and love to you all out there. This time in our lives has really made me appreciate every single person out there. So hug yourself and know you are cared for. Stay safe and healthy.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles works with Milo and Peter to find out the truth behind the deaths of Talia and Asher Hale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd. Thank you for your patience with any errors.

“Milo?” Stiles knocked on the cracked open door of his wolf-in-law’s office. “Got a minute?”

“Stiles, come on in,” came a warm, friendly voice.

Walking into the spacious office, Stiles got a good look around. He’d been in here a few times, but usually just to drop off food while the lawyer was working himself to the bone on an important case. This was a surprise visit, but there was a purpose. He shut the door behind him and approached the beautiful antique, leather-top mahogany desk Laura had gifted him with after he graduated law school.

Milo smiled at him, pointing him to the deep brown wing back chair across from him. Stiles sank into the seat with a happy sigh. It screamed luxury with the tufted back and nail head accents.

“I’m going to have a torrid love affair with this chair, Milo,” Stiles warned as he ran his hands over the plush leather arms.

“You wouldn’t be the first,” Milo said, his warm caramel eyes sparkling with mirth. “I gotta say, you don’t usually come in here.”

Stiles nodded and shrugged. “I try not to go into anyone’s office. I tend to babble and these places are for work. Most of what I need or want can wait until someone is free.”

“That isn’t the case today?” Milo asked, head tilted, his usually immaculately brushed and styled brown hair was loose and shaggy over his forehead since it was his day off.

“Is this room soundproofed?” Stiles asked, voice quiet as he gave Milo steady eye contact.

Milo gave a dip of his head. “It is.”

“I need help with something and I think you are the only one I can talk to about it without upsetting others,” Stiles said. “Can I trust you?”

Sitting up straighter, Milo frowned. “Of course you can.”

“I need you to tell me everything you know about the accident that killed Talia and Asher Hale,” Stiles announced.

Steepling his hands, Milo gave him a steady look. Milo had a rounded face that kept him looking young and unassuming. But he could drop the innocence and look like a fierce wolf warrior with a twitch of his eyebrows. Not nearly Derek level, but close. “I need to know the purpose of your request.”

Stiles smiled, appreciating the protective nature of his favorite wolf-in-law. “I want to give Derek, and the rest of the family, the peace of knowing what exactly happened to their parents. They deserve it. I think with my new abilities, I might be able to ‘see’,” Stiles said, with finger quotes, “things that might have been missed or aren’t able to be seen even with wolf vision.” Milo’s expression was warming and he was nodding along. “I asked if the room was soundproof because a) I don’t want to upset anyone with the asking of questions, and b) I don’t want to disappoint anyone if I can’t do anything to help.”

Milo got up and came around the desk. Stiles stood, it just seemed like a standing moment. Then he gasped as Milo grabbed him and hugged him tight.

“I am so glad you joined the family, Stiles,” Milo said, pride and gratitude leaking from his emotional pores. He let him go and sat in the matching wingback next to him. “I will absolutely share everything I know. I know Laura doesn’t approve because she doesn’t have any hope of solving the case, but I revisit it every month or so, hoping beyond hope that I’ll see something new. I know your brain and how amazing and differently you’re able to see things. I would love to have new eyes on the case and paired with your new abilities, maybe we could find a new lead.” Milo’s eyes were sparkling and he was practically vibrating with excitement. He and Stiles shared the love of diving deep into a project. Together they would be able to do this. “I’ll tell you something else Laura and Derek don’t know,” he said. Scooting to the edge of his chair until his and Stiles’ knees were slotted together, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I have the car.”

Stiles’ brows high-fived his hairline. “From the accident?” he mouthed.

Milo nodded, lips pursed. “I had to. There might be something the cops missed - no offense,” he said, holding up a hand.

Waving him off, Stiles shook his head. “None taken. Dad would be proud of you. It should have been kept in police custody, but if they released it, that means they don’t think there is anything left for them to find. It’s perfect, though, Milo, seriously. Tell me everything and then let’s go see it. I might be able to get something off it,” Stiles said, wiggling his fingers and eyebrows to indicate his Spark.

Milo nodded again, getting excited. “That’s my thought exactly. Okay, let me get the file and then we’ll take off and I’ll tell you everything on the drive over.”

They quickly left the house, claiming they were running to Milo’s official office, which was true, because… werewolves and hearing lies. They stopped into the office and Milo showed him the extended files on the accident.

Everything was in order. The car had crashed into a freeway median. According to the skid marks, they had been traveling the proper speed. There were no reports of erratic driving from the two witnesses who saw the crash. They simply saw the car veer off and slam into the median. The report showed no problems with the engine or brake system on the car. There was no reason for the crash and there was no reason behind their deaths. With wolf healing, they should have walked away, healed within moments. Both bodies had been decapitated, the heads cleanly removed. The windshield had splintered, but there were no broken pieces that could have pierced the necks.

Nothing made sense. Talia and Asher should not have died. Period. But there were no cut brake lines or even fingerprints that led to anything other than their horrible death. It was tragic and awful.

Finishing the case file, Stiles turned hardened eyes to Milo. “Take me to the car.”

On the drive over, Milo shared the very few theories he’d scrounged up, but none of them made sense.

“Were there any active enemies at the time?” Stiles asked, tapping his fingers against the window, mind moving through ideas.

Milo shook his head as they stopped at a light. “No. It was a really peaceful time, actually. There were new allies, a couple of treaties. Nothing was going on.” He slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “Nothing! I have nothing, I’ve discovered nothing. I am the lawyer for this pack and I’ve done nothing to ease them! Nothing to bring them peace!”

Stiles put his hand on Milo’s arm and sent peace through their pack bond. “We will do this together. The burden is no longer yours alone. Do you hear me?”

Milo let out a shuddering breath and gave him a somewhat grateful grimace. “Thanks Stiles. I really appreciate you being here. It’s felt kind of lonely being the only one willing to look into it.”

“We got this,” Stiles said, holding up a fist.

Milo snorted and gave a half-hearted fist bump. “We got this.”

They arrived at a storage facility and pulled up near a deep blue garage sized shed. Milo walked over and entered a code into a complicated security system before pressing a button and the garage door slid up.

“Damn,” Stiles muttered.

The blue Lexus sedan was facing out, the broken windshield still in place.

“Give me a couple of minutes alone,” Stiles said, leaning heavily on instinct and his Spark. He glanced back and Milo nodded.

Stiles walked into the garage and stood in front of the crushed hood of the car. As much as this could have killed a human, a wolf should have been able to walk away, healed within minutes. Bending down, he stretched his hands across the hood and touched the warped metal. Pulling on his Spark, he allowed himself to receive.

It took a moment before his Spark answered his request for information. He felt the car moving, engine quiet and smooth. Suddenly the wheel yanked one direction than another, confusion and worry and heightened instincts burning bright. He felt the pack bond, strong and taut, suddenly dampened like novocaine on his tongue. Voices strained and filled with fear, love shared and returned as the final jerk ended with a crash. He could still hear heartbeats until there was shock and vulnerability, fear mixed with a loss of connection to their wolves. Paralyzed fear filled the totaled car and a final burst of power that ended it all.

Stiles stumbled back from the car, breaking from the memories and fell on his ass on the ground, deep sobs breaking from him. He didn’t even know them and to feel what they’d been through was more than he could stand.

“Stiles!” Milo rushed over and pulled the sobbing wolf into his arms. “What happened? What did you see?”

“Somebody… did this… to them,” Stiles gasped out. “The car was fine and suddenly it was taken over. They lost contact with the pack, they couldn’t communicate with anyone. I heard them saying ‘I love you’ to each other.” Stiles got control of himself and grabbed onto the arms holding him. “Milo, they knew it was the end. But they made it through the wreck and somehow, they lost their wolves. They couldn’t call up their wolves or their strength or power. They were unable to protect themselves and then there was a surge of power and they were gone,” Stiles finished and broke down again now that he’d conveyed the story. “They didn’t have… their pack with them, Milo, they were all alone. There was no final feeling of comfort from their family, it was ripped away from them and then their lives were ripped away.” He felt his brother-in-law trembling against him and realized he hadn’t tempered anything he’d said. “Oh goddess, Milo, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted all that out.”

“No,” Milo said, sniffling and swiping at his eyes. “No, I needed to know what happened to them. Stiles, I need to call Peter. He needs to know this as well as whatever else you can find out.”

Stiles nodded. “Not Derek. Not yet. Let me find out more concrete information before we hurt him.”

Narrowing his eyes at Stiles, Milo had to ask. “Do you know more? Or can you find it out?”

Biting his lip, Stiles frowned. “I think I can. I am nearly certain magic was heavily involved. If I can have a bit more time, I might be able to find out more. But I don’t want to just torture our pack with what their matriarch and patriarch went through and leave it at that. I have to find out as much as possible. We can tell them when we have something for them to work with,” Stiles was adamant they not hurt their pack.

Giving a short nod, Milo took out his phone and sent off a text. “I can agree to that. What do you need to find out more information?”

Stiles looked around them. This particular shed was at the end of a row and there was an open area next to them. “Can we move the car out to the open? I need to be able to move around the car and open doors if necessary.”

“Absolutely. Let’s wait for Peter. I feel like we need some pack authority here.” He held up a hand. “I know you’re the Alpha mate and Spark, but I…,” he lost his words.

Stiles rescued him. “I get it. I want Peter here too. I haven’t been in the pack long, I don’t know all the rules and history. Peter is the Left Hand, he’ll know how to handle this the best way.”

Milo slouched in relief. “Thank you, Stiles. I know that could have sounded really wrong.”

“No worries, man. Do you have some paper so I can jot down my notes?”

Stiles was busily writing away when Peter’s sleek black McLaren 720S Spider Ranchero pulled up. Stiles knew the long name of it only because Peter had been horrified to learn Stiles knew nothing about his precious car. Now Stiles knew too much and still didn’t care.

The Hale pack Left Hand slid out of his car, elegant despite nearly being seated on the ground. Peter wore his typical black slacks, v-neck black tee and a black pin stripe blazer. He was as intimidating as he was attractive. His blue eyes were trained on the two of them and Stiles was, as always, glad they were on the same side.

Peter stalked up to Stiles, expression tense. “Tell me everything.”

His tummy just a little nervous, he told Peter what he’d experienced and gave him the sheet of notes. Peter concurred with moving the car and between the three of them, the car was soon free of the garage.

“If you guys want to sit in the car or something. I’ll need, maybe ten feet perimeter around the car. Any interference could screw up the ‘reception’,” he said.

“That’s fine. We’ll start working out how we’re going to tell the pack,” Peter said. “Do your best. But if you can’t get anything, Stiles, I don’t want you taking any kind of blame or guilt. Understand?” His blue eyes were hard on him.

“Understood,” Stiles said with a small smile of gratitude. He was feeling like the weight of this was suddenly on his shoulders. But he also felt gratitude that he could be there. He had the power, he hoped, to shine light on what had happened to two beloved people.

Approaching the car, he closed his eyes and pulled up his power, up, up, and out. He covered his eyes with it until all he could see was magic. It was clear in the wind blowing through the trees. It was clear in the bond linking him to the wolves behind him. It was also clear in the trails left all over the wrecked car.

There were smears of magic hovering just over the hood, it was probably what was used to put the car under the control of the magic user. It smelled rancid, like mildew and rotted food. His studies told him that was the smell of a magic user doing dark magic. He saw the same streaks above the car doors and leading to the back of the car. Right. Whoever put the spell on the car basically turned it into a remote-control car. The person or people responsible were able to control it from another location. They didn’t work alone, however.

“Reveal,” he whispered, the word echoing into the air. The air shimmered in the shape of a person who walked up to the car. The head looked back and forth as if checking to see if they were alone or being watched. The cheeks of the face shape moved and Stiles could tell it was a grin of pure malice and evil. The car door opened, the person shape pulled a long, slightly curved blade from a shoulder sheath. With a low laugh, the blade slid into the car and slammed into each of the head rests.

Stiles swallowed heavily, knowing he’d just seen their deaths. He circled the car several more times, making sure he’d discovered all there was to know. He found swirls of magic lingering in the air in the middle of the front seats. That answered a lot of questions he had. Looking at the magical signatures more closely, he realized it was put there by two magic users. So far, three people were in on the plan to kill the Hale elders. The ultimate killer and two separate mages.

Listening to a urging from his magic, he turned to Peter and Milo. “Do either of you have a handkerchief or a piece of material you don’t mind being ruined?”

Peter whipped his pocket square out of the small pocket on his blazer. “Will this work?” He walked over to Stiles.

He grinned. “Perfect! Thank you,” Stiles said, taking the small square of cloth from him. Walking to one of the magical prints, he held the cloth above the car and breathed on the mark before he rubbed at it, watching it leave the car and transfer onto the cloth. Moving to another print that was different than the first, he turned the cloth over and did the same.

“Let’s put the car back,” Stiles said after pulling his magic back into himself.

Peter looked like he wanted answers first, but after giving him a look, he nodded and the three put the car back into storage and closed and locked the door.

“I want to tell you everything, but something in me is telling me to do this behind closed doors. Safe closed doors. Do we have anywhere like that?” Stiles asked.

Getting another searching look, Peter nodded. “I keep a safe place near the other end of town. We’ll go there. Stay with me. Milo, follow me.”

With no question, they obeyed. Each person in the pack knew the specialties of the others. When that person told you what to do, you obeyed out of respect for their position. When Milo gave legal advice, you listened. If Peter told you what to do, you did it. Especially with Peter because he was terrifying when he wanted to be. Of course with Derek, you listened no matter what. Respecting each person’s place in the pack not only kept the pack in tight running order, but it backed up each person’s position and gave that person validation. It let them know they mattered to the pack.

Twenty minutes later, they were pulling into a gated community and pulling into the garage of a gorgeous two-story home. After deactivating several alarms, they settled into a luxurious yet comfortable dining room that had enough room for six people.

Stiles had been jotting into the small notebook Milo had provided him with the entire time Peter had been driving.

“Alright Stiles, what did you find?” Peter ordered, his patience at an end.

Stiles looked at both of them and prayed to the goddess that he would not let his family down.

“So far, I have found three people involved in the murders. Yes, murders. There is no longer any question about it,” Stiles began.

Peter breathed in sharp through his nose, closing his eyes as he sought to control himself. “I knew it,” he bit out.

“Fuck,” Milo muttered, making his own notes.

“Details,” Peter demanded.

“Okay, I’m not going to sugar coat this. It’s just easier. We all know the ugliness surrounding this situation, there is nothing to be done about it,” Stiles began. He got nods from both the wolves and continued. “From what I found, there were two magic practitioners. They turned the car into a real-life remote-control car. They were able to cause the car to swerve. They then used magic to cut off Talia and Asher from the pack so they couldn’t call for help along the pack bonds.” Stiles saw Peter’s face growing darker the more he spoke but kept going to get it all out. “After the crash, the magic separated them from their wolves so they had no strength to fight, no way to heal themselves. It was after that when the third person came along with a long blade, possibly a type of machete and…,” Stiles cleared his throat. “And finished them off. The magic kept the person cloaked and that’s why they were never seen.”

There was silence for a moment before Peter exploded with a roar. Stiles noticed a blank spot in the pack bonds and realized Peter had learned how to switch his bond off. Probably so he would be able to do what he needed to while still protecting the pack.

Milo and Stiles shrank down a bit as Peter stalked back and forth, snarling and snapping, claws and fangs slipping in and out.

Finally he stalked back to the table. “More details, Stiles. There must be something more. Give me names, give me locations, something!”

“I have a spell I’m going to try when we get back home. The pocket square you gave me has the magical signature of the practitioners. I am going to see if I can trace their magic to their location,” Stiles told him, hoping it was enough.

“Anything about the killer?” Peter demanded.

Thinking back to the shape and size of the person with the machete, he thought for a moment. “I was only able to see the outline of the person. But judging by the size of the person when they were standing next the car, it is either a petite man or it’s a woman. Whoever it was knew how to swing that machete. It was over and done in seconds and they were gone, covered by the protection spell the entire time. I think that’s why I couldn’t see them in detail.”

Peter stared at him, eyes narrowing. “Do the searching spell here, now. We have the time, we have the team, let’s find them now.”

“Shouldn’t Derek be brought in at this point?” Stiles asked hesitantly.

“No. Not until we have a more solid answer. His wolf will demand retribution and if we can provide more information, it will save him pain,” Peter told him.

Searching himself, he saw no reason why he couldn’t do the spell here. There were trees behind the house they were in, all he needed was a connection to nature and the Nemeton. Those trees could serve the purpose.

“Alright. I’ll be out back,” Stiles said, rising. He handed his notes to Peter and made his way out of the house.

He found a tree that felt right to his Spark and knelt by it. Placing his hands on the base of the trunk, he called up the Nemeton. _Give me sight to see the magic, the trail of magic of those responsible for killing the Hale elders. Help me get justice for them._

He didn’t have to wait long for a reply. His Spark jerked as it felt like a band-aid was ripped off.

_Now you see. You may be able to save lives in the process. We don’t know who did it, but we know innocent lives were involved._

Stiles gave effusive thanks and rose, quickly returning to his packmates. The pocket square was sitting there and above it was a green spectral mist, floating in the air. Smiling, Stiles sent more thanks because he knew it would be easy to spot it.

“We need to go back to the site of the accident. The Nemeton has given me the sight to see. Once we get their signature from the accident, we can follow it to wherever they currently are,” Stiles said, excited. “Can we call Derek yet?” Part of him simply wanted the proximity of his mate, the comfort Derek provided.

Peter shook his head. “As soon as we have the location, we will go home and meet with Derek and the other Defenders,” he said referring to Derek, Laura, Erica, and Boyd, the people who were responsible for the overall protection of the pack. “Then we will have something to give him.” He put his hand on Stiles’ arm, the contact comforting him and his wolf, both of whom wanted their mate more than anything else at this point. “I know what I’m doing, Stiles, I promise. I need to have something to give him, something solid. Right now, we have no idea how long it will take us to find whoever these people are. We have no idea if they’re local or if they’re from out of state. I want to go home and be able to say, ‘here, this is where the enemy is’, and then he will have something to go on.”

Stiles nodded. “Alright. I’m not questioning you, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know. I want Lydia by my side more than anything, but it’s not time yet,” Peter said.

Stiles nodded in agreement. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there was no Sterek interaction here! There will be in the next chapter. I hope this finds you well and that you are finding reasons to smile everyday. Cyberhugs to you all!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sh...Stuff hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read this five or six times, so if I missed errors, please forgive them! Working on the next couple chapters now!

Isaac Lahey sipped on his hot caramel latte and flipped his book to the next page. He didn’t take much time to himself, he adored his pack and he loved to be surrounded by them. Sometimes, though, he just needed a couple hours away. They knew where he was and had no problem with it. The Hale pack had always made him feel like one of their own. When Talia and Asher had rescued him from the freezer in his father’s basement, eyes red and fangs displayed. He hadn’t been afraid at all. He knew Erica and Boyd and was completely accepting of them as werewolves. More than once he’d wished he had werewolf strength. Then he would show his father what strong was. Talia and Asher took him in without a second thought. Milo fought for him to be emancipated and won easily. He was his own person and then Talia offered him the Bite. He had sobbed for hours, thanking them. Once he was strong in body as well as spirit, he dedicated his life and time to anything that could further the pack. Pack came first before anything else.

Today, however, he was taking a couple hours to sit in his favorite café with his favorite coffee and his favorite book. Add in some people watching and he was perfectly content. There were times he wondered if he would be happier if he had a mate, but it was a useless thought. He’d known for years that he was asexual and had no desire for any intimacy beyond friendship. It was nerve-wracking when he came out to his pack. Packs were all about expanding and creating more pack, or so he thought. Him not wanting or needing a mate had him stressed out. Talia sat down with him one day and told him that Pack was about love and pack. Nothing more. Love could bring more pack, but it wasn’t a requirement. She told Isaac how he inspired her, how his love for the pack made it brighter and better. He didn’t need a mate. And if he did find someone to love, it didn’t automatically follow that he needed to have children. She told him he was the best benefit to the Pack when he was himself, his loving self, not worried about what he should do or should be. Just him loving all of them. He could do that. From that day on, he’d felt a wholeness in himself that he’d never experienced before. Through that, he felt he was able to love the Pack better. And himself. He loved Isaac Lahey and who he was. It was a great place to be.

“Hey Isaac.” A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

Looking up, his stomach jumped at the sight of Scott McCall standing next to his table. How he hadn’t noticed the familiar scent of his former friend, he didn’t know. He and Scott had been close friends through high school until the last few months before Isaac left. Isaac had thought it was him just being in a different living environment that had made Scott wean off their friendship. But now he knew it was because he was a werewolf living in a werewolf pack. Isaac knew what Scott had said to Stiles when he’d come to the pack house. He knew that his old friend was full of hate and they had a no-contact order against him. But there was something in him that longed for his old friend. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“Hey Scott,” he said, giving a weak smile.

“Mind if I sit?” Scott asked. He pushed a small cup toward Isaac. “I got you a peace offering. Caramel latte, extra hot. Just like you like it.”

Isaac knew he was a pushover and a peacemaker and that part of him was crying out now to mend the bridge with Scott. Maybe he could break through with his friend. Make him see that being a werewolf was just different, just like anything else.

He pulled the cup over and smiled. “Thanks,” he said with a nod toward the seat opposite him. “How are things?” A doorbell noise alerted him to a text on his phone. Seeing it was Laura asking him to pick something up on the way home, he pushed it aside. He’d respond when Scott left.

Scott began talking about Allison and his classes and how classes weren’t as funny without Stiles there, cracking jokes about the teachers. The nostalgia warmed Isaac and he took a sip of his fresh coffee, sighing at the warm flavor. They laughed over some of Stiles’ crazier jokes and pranks they’d pulled together on Mischief Night. It was a surety that Coach Finstock was forever scarred by the three of them.

“Want to walk down to the comic shop with me?” Scott asked, his brown eyes bright.

Isaac nodded with a grin and finished off the coffee. Everything in the café seemed to glow in the midday sun. Things were going to go back to the way they were, Isaac, Scott and Stiles; the Three Musketeers reunited. Stiles would be so happy. He was so happy. He knew his smile was shining as bright as Scott was. As everything was, really.

They walked outside and Isaac stumbled. He frowned. He hadn’t been clumsy once since he’d become a werewolf. “Wha’ th’hell?” he mumbled. The words seemed loose and slurred.

“You’ll get used to regular human reflexes again soon,” Scott said, grabbing Isaac’s arm as he tripped again.

Frowning at his friend, Isaac was confused. “What d’you mean?” Why was it so hard to talk? “What th’fux goin’ on?” The late afternoon sun shouldn’t be making everything sparkle around them. His stomach sank as he realized he was in serious trouble and away from his pack. He slipped his hand into his pocket and realized he hadn’t grabbed his phone when he left the café.

“Oh, it was just a small sedative to help you relax through the ritual,” Scott said, his brown eyes shimmering with sincerity.

“What?” Isaac realized he was losing control of his functions. He couldn’t fight Scott as he pushed him toward the parking lot and a large white van sitting there. Why were white vans always used by bad guys? Why couldn’t he fight or run? He tried to and all it did was push him closer to Scott.

The door of the van slid open and two large men he’d never seen before grabbed him by the arms. He fought them, but all he was able to do was sway from side to side, small whimpers escaping him. What was this that incapacitated him so easily and so completely? Inside, his thoughts were fine, he knew he was being taken by Scott and his crazy church. He also had a sinking feeling he knew what this ritual was that Scott was talking about. He whimpered, seeking out his pack bonds. The bonds were hazy, like he was seeing them through plastic wrap. He sent out panic and fear to them, hoping they got them before it was too late. As he was shoved into the van, his vision began to gray and he knew this might be his last chance. He sent all his love as hard as he could through the pack bonds, hoping if nothing else, they would know that his last thoughts were of his love for his pack.

* * *

Pocket square in hand, Stiles watched the scenery go by as Peter drove him and Milo to the site of the accident where Talia and Asher had perished. Once they were there, the spectral magic gained from the magic practitioners stained on the pocket square, would connect to whatever magic was left over at the scene of the accident. That would then lead them to wherever the magic was initiated and hopefully those involved. Still wanting to call Derek and tell him everything that had happened, Stiles pushed it down, trusting Peter’s knowledge of what was needed in this situation. The three of them muting their pack bonds was a frustrating choice, but Peter was absolute in his commands and Stiles knew to trust him.

As Stiles soaked himself in his Spark and the magic opened to him, he remembered the Nemeton had told him lives could be saved. For some reason, an old fashioned milk carton came to mind. Milk carton. His dad used to joke about Stiles getting lost and needing to put his face on a milk carton. Missing people. He felt a rush of magic as he connected the two. Missing magical people.

“Milo, can you look up and see if two people, adults, went missing from Beacon Hills or the surrounding counties around the month preceding the accident?” Stiles asked, wanting to stay soaked in his Spark and not get distracted by his phone.

“Anything specific to look for?” Milo asked, the sound of him tapping his phone coming from behind him.

“They wouldn’t have been found yet. No body, no reason behind the disappearance. I don’t know if there is a way to trace it, but they would have magical abilities,” he shared.

“Gotcha,” Milo said and went quiet.

It was several minutes later when he cleared his voice. “Well, for once I can say we have a definitive answer. Two adults went missing two weeks before the accident. They were the only missing people in Beacon County in the last five years. We have a wonderful Sheriff’s office that has a flawless record of finding people,” Milo said, completely sincere.

Stiles smiled, hearing the compliment towards his father in Milo’s words. “That’s somewhat good news. What are their names?”

“Two completely unconnected people gone missing one day apart. Zia Bracken and Colby McKinnon.”

Stiles felt a flicker of recognition in his Spark. “That’s them. They were taken prisoner so they could cause the accident. The Nemeton keeps telling me we could save lives through this. They were forced to do this or they didn’t know exactly what they are doing. We don’t know yet,” Stiles said. “I ask that you not kill them, Peter. I can get a spell ready to dampen their power until I can talk to them. Would that be acceptable?” He knew he had to step carefully around the Left Hands need to avenge his sister.

Peter thought for a long moment before nodding. “Make sure the spell keeps them completely incapacitated. Blinded, unable to use their magic.”

“Absolutely,” Stiles agreed, relief filling him. “As soon as we find the location of the perpetrators, I can cloak the entire building.”

“Then yes, I agree to your terms,” Peter allowed.

It all ended up easier than they thought it would be. Reaching the scene of the accident, the green spectral trail was clearly visible and Stiles was able to direct them through and then out of Beacon Hills. The trail ended at a tall white building. It surprised none of them to see the words Universal Way of Life in large black letters.

Pulling up his magic, Stiles created a bubble that would block all magical users from their own sparks. Hidden behind a neighboring tree, he pushed it and saw his magic create a dome that glowed for a second before disappearing from sight. Feeling no returning spells, he knew it had taken effect and rushed back to the car.

Before he could say anything, Peter grinned at him. “Now we can tell Derek,” he said.

Stiles saw the death in Peter’s determined gaze and didn’t feel at all sorry for whoever was inside that building.

When they were on the long back road that led to the pack house, they felt a shock of alarm, pain, and worry go through the pack bond. All of their eyes lit up with their wolves and Peter slammed his foot on the gas. Something was horribly wrong.

They ran into the house as soon as they got there and Stiles immediately sped to Derek’s side.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

Derek’s eyes were fire red and his fangs and claws were out. He spared a moment to kiss Stiles firmly with a low growl and grab his hand before giving a short roar to get the attention of the entire assembled pack. Well, almost all of them, Stiles noted. _Oh no_ , he thought.

“Isaac has been taken,” Derek announced. As cries and growls filled the air, he gave a louder roar and they all quieted and tilted their heads to him. “Please let me get through this. We’re all worried. Isaac went to his cafe, the same one he always goes to. He didn’t respond to texts from Laura. We noticed we couldn’t feel him, something was wrong. Laura and Boyd went to the cafe and found his phone on a table with two cups of coffee. His scent led them outside and around the back of the cafe before disappearing. We don’t know where he was taken. We do know Scott McCall was probably involved as his scent was with Isaac’s at the table and on the route out and behind the cafe. We need to figure out where they are.”

Stiles couldn’t believe they’d missed Isaac’s absent pack bond. Now that he felt it, it had that same feeling the car had, like a numbing sensation. Not there. “I think I know where he is,” Stiles said.

“I know where he is,” Peter and Milo said at the same time.

“What? How?” Derek demanded.

“I’ve got this,” Peter said. “It’s not how I wanted to bring it up, I wanted this to be easier for you,” he said, making eye contact with Derek, Laura and Cora. “I’m sorry for that. But with the pup’s life potentially on the line, we have to rip the band-aid off. Talia and Asher were murdered and we finally have the proof.” With that opening, Peter went through their day, highlighting the basics of finding out what happened to Talia and Asher Hale and where it led them.

Laura gasped, Cora choked back a sob, the younger pups all had tears in their eyes. It was possibly the worst way for them to find this out, but they had to know.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispered to Derek when Peter finished.

“I told him we needed to wait until we knew concrete information before we told you,” Peter cut in. “If you are angry, point it at me.”

Derek looked into Stiles’ worried golden eyes before closing his own and tipping his forehead to Stiles’. “I’m not mad. Not at all. Shocked and shaken, but I think once we have Isaac home, I’ll be able to feel relief for knowing. For now, we need to put that aside and get our pup back.” He stood up and moved to the center of the room. “Parrish, Erica, Peter, Milo, Cora. You’re coming with me. Two vehicles in case we are separated or attacked. Boyd, you are in charge of securing the house.”

Boyd didn’t look happy but didn’t argue.

“What about me,” Laura demanded, green eyes glinting angrily. She was always consulted and included when it came to pack security.

Derek turned and gave her a steady gaze. “You need to be here in case I’m taken out. No mated pairs, no leaders. Not this time.”

Laura gritted her teeth but nodded. She understood she would be the alpha if Derek died. It didn’t bear thinking of, but it was a fact of their life.

“I’ll be at the Nemeton. I’ll be able to help best from there,” Stiles said.

Derek wanted him locked in the house with the rest of them, but there was no doubt his mate could be of use to them and he needed to be as powerful as possible. Finally he nodded and turned to his cousin. “Malia, you are to protect Stiles.” She was his fiercest fighter and Derek knew even though she wasn’t one to show emotion, she cared for Stiles and would protect him as Derek would expect her to.

“With my life,” she swore, standing straighter, eyes glinting blue at him.

“I hope that won’t be necessary,” Derek said. He quickly walked through his pack, scenting each of them, giving them each a moment of comfort and love from him. Stiles met him at the door, arms held out. Derek pulled him in and kissed him with all the passion and love he had in him. “My own,” he whispered against those beautiful lips.

“My Alpha,” Stiles returned, a grin lighting his face. “Come back to me.”

“Always,” Derek said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I turned off anonymous comments. I'm not going to be bullied and sworn at and insulted on my own story. Thanks for understanding.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a look at the pack from different points of view. We learn what happened to Isaac...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was lightly edited. I apologize in advance for any errors. Enjoy and have a Spooky good Halloween!
> 
> I see Stiles at Halloween...
> 
> "Come on, Derek, it'll be great!"  
> "Stiles, I am NOT sitting on a broom and flying around."  
> "But it would be awesome! We could be Hocus Pocus. We'll get Peter to be the witch on the vacuum. Oh, I saw you smile, Derek!"  
> "No, Stiles."  
> "But... oh! Derek, remember that one position you wanted to try, that one that had me practically rolled up? Yep. It's all yours."  
> "Fine, but I'm Bette Midler."  
> "Amok, amok amok!!"

Stiles

“Nemeton!” Stiles called with a determined grin as they reached the giant tree. “We need your help.”

“That’s an understatement,” Malia mumbled. “They’d have a better chance if I was with them.”

Stiles lost his grin. He knew this was probably the shit job. He liked Malia, they’d always gotten along, but he knew she thought she was meant for more. “We can go back. I can get Kyra and Boyd. Laura is strong enough to…”

“No, Stiles. I was given my job and I will do it,” she said and gave him a half-hearted smile. “I’m sorry. I’m being a whiny bitch. I just wanted to be in the action. My wolf is jumping at the bit.”

Stiles grinned again. “I know the feeling. I’m not all kick ass warrior bitch like you, but I wouldn’t mind getting my ninja on. Let’s do this and just bring our people home, shall we?”

Malia nodded and stood straight, arms loose and ready, head swiveling as she began keeping watch. “Do what you do, oh mighty One.”

Chuckling, Stiles moved to the Nemeton and knelt. “I’m on it.” Placing his hands at the base of the mighty tree, he made the connection, something in him loosening at the contact. He knew his Spark was part of the Nemeton, together they would be stronger. “I need to help them. My mate, my Alpha, my pack. They are going to rescue Isaac. We don’t know what they will be facing. Please help me clear the way for them. Help me give the enemy a show of power that they would never see coming. Literally and figuratively,” he said with a chuckle.

_We shall abuse a mule, my One. Though I do not relish the abuse of any creature, even those stubborn ones, it must be done. We shall do it together._

Stiles threw back his head, laughter bursting out of him. “I think you mean let’s kick some ass!”

_That is what I implied._

“You are absolutely right,” Stiles said with a chuckle. “Now, on with the mule abuse.”

Laura

Knowing Boyd was watching the cameras and the rest of the pack was secure in the panic room gave Laura time to do some research. The panic room was really more of a panic level. There was a secret level underneath the basement. It was fireproof, earthquake proof, flood proof, and many more proofs. There were three tunnels leading from those out and into the Preserve. Hidden, camouflaged, protection at it’s best. Talia and Asher had been determined that their pack would survive any threat. Too bad that hadn’t included mysterious car accidents. Not so mysterious now.

Laura entered Milo’s office and took a deep breath in of her mate’s scent. The warm woody smell calmed her and comforted her. She wished he was next to her, holding her and brushing her hair back as he loved to do. She would put up a token fuss and then give in to his ministrations. He knew how to take care of her and she loved him deeply.

That was what she longed for now as she looked over his notes and saw the details of how her parents died. How her Alpha, her mentor, her protectors had died. Tears burned her eyes as she read Stiles’ messy scrawl detailing how her parents lost their pack bond and then their own wolves. They died empty and separated from those who loved them most.

Born wolves, if separated from their wolf were nothing but a wisp of a shell. The soul was gone. All that remained was flesh and bone. Even that would give way within a few days.

To know her parents likely felt that horror, that pain, that depth of loss ripped at her own heart. Made her wolf howl with anguish as tears streaked down her face.

“Mama… Papa,” she whimpered, holding her hand over her aching heart. “I’m so sorry.”

She gave herself two minutes. Two minutes to feel the pain, cry for her parents, mourn for their wolves and their spirits.

Hiccupping and swiping at her eyes, she composed herself. Her mother had taught her well how to control herself. There was a time for release and there was a time for control. For now, she needed to control herself and attend to the business at hand. Looking through the notes, she saw the names of the missing people Stiles was certain were the mages who were kidnapped and being forced to work with the Universal Way of Light. Those damn Argents.

Laura spent the next ten minutes on the phone with the families of the missing people. Neither had reasons to leave, no clothes missing. There was also no ransom note or anything else pertaining to a kidnapping. When asked if anything out of the ordinary had happened prior to them going missing, both reported that the Universal Way of Light had been by several times. A blonde lady by the name of Kate Argent had been by, attempting to recruit them to the church. Colby McKinnon had told her he wasn’t interested and asked her to leave. He told his girlfriend that Kate felt wrong. He didn’t know why.

Zia Bracken, on the other hand, had been open to hearing Kate out about the opportunity. She had met with Kate and the church’s leader, Apostle Gerard Argent at one of their offices. Once there, listening to the spiel of the old man, how the human species needed to be purified. They would use Zia’s own magical Spark and help those who were lost. Return them to their true forms. Zia refused them and came home, shaken and disturbed by what she’d heard.

Laura thanked Zia’s sister and hung up, hands trembling and realizing just what Isaac might be going through. The Argents were using magic to separate the wolf from the werewolf. They were torturing and killing them. All in the name of purification.

Derek

Once they’d parked around the corner from the Universal Way of Light building, Derek separated them. He took Erica and Parrish with him and sent Peter, Cora and Milo around to the only other door into the building. It was a two-story building, but they could only hear heartbeats on the bottom floor, possibly in a basement. Derek told them to be ready for a sign from Stiles. When Cora asked what it would be, Derek flashed his fangs as he grinned and told her she’d know.

Waiting, Derek felt Stiles knocking on their bond.

“Get ready,” he whispered, knowing both groups would hear him.

A gust of wind built up, like a tornado was about to form around them. Derek couldn’t help the smile as it felt like the Nemeton and Stiles were with them. The wind built up speed and suddenly the doors to the church blew open and the wind preceded them inside. Keeping low, they entered and followed the breeze as it carried them through and to a now open door leading downstairs. Peter and the others met them there, Peter’s blue eyes sparkling with the thrill of the chase.

Derek took point and crept down the stairs. Still hearing no heartbeats and knowing Stiles was blocking any magic users, he pushed on and entered a solitary door. Coming to a stop, he gasped, his wolf howling in rage and pain.

There was nobody there except the shadow of a human slumped on the single chair in the room.

The others piled in behind him and gasped in horror at the sight before them.

Leaned over in the chair, held in place by ropes, was Isaac. What used to be Isaac. His wolf was gone. There was no animal flavor to his scent, no answering bond between wolf and pack. There was no glow of perfect health. He was pale and limp. Barely alive.

Derek approached him and knelt beside him, quickly slicing through the ropes with his claws.

“Isaac?” he asked, a clawed finger touching his cheek. “Isaac, brother, can you hear me?”

Isaac twitched, though even that was slow and listless. “D’rek.”

“Yes brother, it’s me. We’re here, we’re going to get you out of here. We’ll take you to the pack house and Stiles and Deaton will help you,” Derek said, slowly easing Isaac’s body into his arms, Peter next to him, making sure Isaac’s head was supported. His body had no muscle control, much like a newborn infant.

Peter took a look around the room, but there was nothing to take or look at. It had been wiped clear. He took pictures of the room before they left back the way they came. There was nobody there to stop them or challenge them.

“This was too easy,” Peter said, his tone wary. “I don’t like this at all.”

Cora and Parrish were behind them, Erica and Milo in front. They reached the vehicles without incident and loaded Isaac gently into the back of the Suburban. Cora sat with his head in her lap, murmuring comforting words to him.

They began the drive home, phones on speaker between the cars and Laura and Boyd back home.

“There was nobody there, Laura. No trap, nothing. Just Isaac,” Derek said. “Laura, they took his wolf.”

Laura and Boyd gasped. “What? No! How? What?” Laura cried.

“He’s alive, barely,” Cora said. “His pulse is slow, even for a human.”

“Will he live?” Parrish asked.

The lines were silent. “We have no way of knowing, we’ve never seen this before,” Derek finally said. “We’ll get Deaton and Stiles to look into it. Maybe the Nemeton could restore him or at least help him find some sort of quality of life. We’ll bring him…” Derek cut off and gave an anguished cry as his bond with Stiles suddenly broke apart inside him. The car swerved and if Erica hadn’t grabbed the wheel from him, they might have crashed. Stomping on the break, Derek roared in rage and loss. “Stiles! No! He’s gone!”

The rest of the pack began shouting and growling as they felt the loss of another pack member. “Malia!” Laura roared, claws and fangs ripping out of her. “Her wolf is gone! I can’t feel her pack bond, Milo!”

It took everything Derek had in him to gain control of the car and finish the drive home. He heard nothing of what the pack said, he only knew his mate was gone from him. His wolf was shifting between howling in mourning and roaring for the destruction of anything in his way if he did not get his mate back.

As soon as the car screeched to a halt in front of the pack house, Derek shifted and ran for the Nemeton. He knew several of the others joined him, but all he cared about was reaching the Nemeton and hopefully his mate and cousin.

The sight of Isaac’s limp form, his barely living body, haunted him as he ran. This would not happen to Stiles, it couldn’t. He refused to believe it. He would raze the world to the ground, leave everything in ash if his mate was not returned to him.

Stiles

Stiles brain came back online slowly. He knew something was wrong because of the pain. Everything hurt, head to toe. There was a burning pain surrounding his body, squeezing him tight. It felt like his flesh was burning off, layer by layer. Even his face and mouth hurt. Something in him told him to play possum and don’t let on that he was waking up. When that thought fully sank in, he remembered what happened. He was in the hands of the UWoL.

Fuck.

He’d been communing with the Nemeton to bring his family home safely when he heard Malia growl and the sound get abruptly cut off.

Looking over, he saw a blonde woman standing over an unconscious Malia, wicked silver blade hanging at her side. He immediately threw a pure ball of his power at her but at the last second, his Spark failed him. His mind slowed, like he was slogging through waist deep mud until everything went black. The last thought he had was of the victorious look on the blonde’s face. He knew, magic unnecessary, that she was the one who killed Talia and Asher Hale.

At least now he knew what the pain was from. The burning sensation had to be wolfsbane soaked ropes tying him to the chair. The scent of silver was also silver handcuffs holding his hands behind his back and his ankles together. Silver that had been magically treated to prevent breaking them off. The part that sickened him was the sensation and pain in his face, his lips to be precise. The slightest move of his mouth sent pain through his entire skull. It pulled in an odd way. He gave a tiny lick to his lips. It took everything he had to not jolt in shock and horror. His mouth was sewn shut with wolfsbane soaked threads. Sewn shut. His stomach heaved at the sensation. Lips sewn together couldn’t speak or spell him free.

Reaching for the Nemeton, he realized it wasn’t just his body being tortured and restrained. His link to the Nemeton was blocked as was his pack bond. He had no way of reaching his pack or his mate. _Derek._ He tried his hardest to send something, love and fear, to his mate, screams of panic to his alpha, but it was like being human again, there was nothing there. He was completely alone. Completely helpless.

It was only a trembling breath coming from above him that alerted him to the fact he was being watched. His wolf may have been tied down, but he still had his wolf’s sense of smell. Whoever was behind him was a magic user and they were terrified. Powerful, but terrified. It must be Zia Bracken who’d been kidnapped after being approached by the church. She was blocking his power. It felt like the same magic bubble he’d put on the UWoL church building when the pack went to rescue Isaac. He’d felt worried relief shortly before he was taken, so he hoped that meant they’d been able to get their wolf brother home. It was a powerful magical suppressant and it was working too well.

“May as well open your eyes, little Alpha mate, we know you’re awake now. Finally. We didn’t hit you that hard.”

The woman’s voice let him know the killer of his pack’s beloved family was here with him. Good. He needed the fury to help control his fear.

Blinking in the bright light, he quickly took in the large room they were in. Light was coming in through windows set high in the stone walls surrounding them. The room was large, bigger than a house and definitely bigger than the UWoL building was. While that narrowed his location down by one, it left too many questions. His focus purposely passed over the blonde woman and her assorted lackeys and landed on the chair across from him. If his legs weren’t tied down, he’d be able to touch her.

Malia.

His sister wolf was still out, her body sagging unnaturally against the ropes that held her down. She didn’t appear hurt, her accelerated healing taking care of any injuries incurred by her capture.

With his lips sewn together, he was unable to make any witty banter and irritate his captors. He settled on glaring at the woman, hatred and the promise of a painful retribution in his eyes. He would have his revenge. In this life or the next.

Kate lifted a brow at his glare and he could have sworn a little apprehension lit her hazel eyes before it was covered with smug victory.

“I can’t wait to see the look on Derek’s face when he finds you. I’ve got cameras up and ready for his big rescue attempt, because we both know it’s coming. That’s why we had to sew your mouth shut. Can’t let you wreck the best part,” she said with a grin. “I’m Kate Argent, by the way, lead elder for the Universal Way of Light.”

She said it like he should be impressed so he gave a dramatic roll of his eyes hoping to convey his sheer lack of fucks to give.

“This is my father, Apostle Gerard Argent, leader of the Universal Way of Light,” she continued, her tone a bit piqued at his reaction.

He looked over at the old man standing near the door. The man was thin and didn’t look all that important with his little ring of white hair. He should just admit he was going bald and shave the shit off, but whatever. Stiles didn’t let his gaze rest on the old man, dismissing him to see if he could irritate them into making a mistake. It would only take one. Stiles would make sure of that.

Malia gasped herself awake, her eyes the glowing blue of a pissed off wolf. She began struggling until a man, likely Colby McKinnon, stepped up behind her and held his hands over her. Immediately her struggles ceased and she went limp, though her eyes continued to glare at everything. For a moment, her eyes met Stiles and he put his all into comforting her with his gaze. _You are not alone_ , he tried to convey. _We will get out of here and make these people pay._

Those blue eyes squinted just a tiny bit as he understood she was agreeing with him and wanted the revenge to be extra bloody.

Gerard Argent stepped towards them and began lecturing about the necessity of cleansing the planet of all non-humans. They were unnatural, blah blah blah. They shouldn’t have powers that humans didn’t blah blah blah. The wolf should be removed in order to cleanse the species. Blah blah blah.

Stiles finally zoned out as the words just ran into one another.

Finally the old man was done after imploring them to feel grateful that they got to be the pioneers of this new way of life. Blah blah.

After he left the room, Kate took the stage and grinned wickedly at them, fingers dancing along the long blade hooked to her belt. “I could go into my beliefs and passions, but really, I just like killing things. Crazy old man lets me, so there we are. Now, I have a bit of a surprise for you. You’ll both notice you have a magic user keeping watch over you. But it takes two in order to remove a wolf,” Kate said, her eyes lit up with manic excitement.

Malia and Stiles’ eyes met. Both were worried. Stiles at least knew he had a chance of surviving since he was once human. Malia, though, was a born wolf. She was far too ingrained with her wolf to be able to survive its removal.

“So, I had my little mages imbue me with enough magic to allow me to take part in removing the little Hale bitch’s wolf. Exciting opportunity, right?” Kate bounced on her toes, her enthusiasm for the imminent torture turning Stiles’ stomach. “Wanna see how it works?”

Stiles locked eyes with Malia again, who was wiggling as much as she could, fear in her eyes. He was starting to panic for her as well and put all of his strength into trying to break free. With Zia holding him still with magic and the ropes and cuffs, he couldn’t do anything but allow a little whimper to escape his closed mouth. He tried to send love to his pack sister, comfort and affection and the utter determination that this would not be the end for her.

He kept his focus on her, not once looking at Kate and Colby. He heard their Latin chanting, but never broke from Malia’s scared blue eyes.

The chanting intensified and Malia began whimpering, unable to hold in the pain of what they were doing to her.

Stiles’ eyes burned with the need to cry as he watched Malia grow more and more tense, like something was inflating her. Her cries became louder and louder until she was screaming in agony and torment.

Helpless to do anything but watch, Stiles pushed deep inside himself, desperate to find some tie with his Spark, to help her.

Suddenly a blood curdling scream escaped her. Her claws popped out and her fangs descended so violently, blood spilled out of her mouth.

Stiles whimpered, shaking his head in denial, tears sliding down his cheeks. It was horrific to watch, but he refused to leave her alone in this by closing his eyes.

A flash of gold shot through the room and Stiles saw a faint outline of a spectral wolf burst out of Malia’s body with a final soul-ripping mournful wail. At the same time, her claws spilled from her fingers and her fangs fell to the floor, the faint click loud in the suddenly quiet room.

Stiles shook his head in denial. No. She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be. But her coloring was sickly pale, skin waxy and near translucent. Like all the blood had been removed from her body. It wasn’t her lifeblood, though. It was her animal, the other half of her soul.

With a giggle of sick delight, Kate put her fingers to Malia’s neck and gave a pout. “Damn it, she’s dead. She wasn’t supposed to die. At least not yet. Why did she die?” She demanded from Colby.

Stiles glared at the man and saw the tears leaking from his eyes. Colby sniffed and took a deep breath before answering. “I told you, miss, a born wolf cannot survive without their wolf.”

With this final confirmation, Stiles gave a cry from deep within his soul, tears of mourning falling freely. He didn’t care that the stitches were ripping his mouth, making it bleed down his chin.

Even as he grieved, he knew he would have his revenge. He would honor his pack members in this way. They were all going to die. Every. Last. One.


	15. Chapter 15

Derek shifted back to human as he approached the Nemeton. He caught Stiles’ scent immediately and turned and followed it, catching the shock and worry he was feeling. Abruptly, the scent died and after switching to Alpha-vision (Stiles loved calling his red eyes Alpha-vision), he saw several sets of footprints. Following the prints, he made it out to the road and knew a car had taken his mate and cousin away.

Returning to the Nemeton, he gasped in alarm. The great tree looked as if it had been tortured. He could feel the pain sinking into the ground around him, the surrounding grass already beginning to die. A seven-foot-wide slab of the tree had been affected, the bark, cambium and sapwood layers were almost melted off, leaving the heartwood exposed, black ooze leaking from the wounds.

“Nemeton, who did this to you?” Derek asked, walking closely and holding his hand over the abused area. The edges of the torn bark felt hot and he had a feeling if he touched it, he might hurt the Nemeton or himself.

The tree didn’t respond as he had grown used to over the time with Stiles. He felt a strong breeze push into him and he shifted to the opposite side of the tree and touched it. Pain, worry and anger that weren’t his swirled around in his mind.

Running footsteps alerted him to his pack’s presence. Within minutes, the majority of them burst through into the clearing, all gasping at the sight before them.

Derek joined them, giving hugs and touches of strength and love to his packmates.

“Malia?” Peter asked, voice hoarse with emotion. He and Malia hadn’t always had the best relationship, but they loved each other and were always there when the other was in need.

“I’m so sorry, Peter, she was taken too,” Derek said, grief for his uncle clear in his red eyes.

Peter swallowed hard and gave a sharp nod. Emotions had no place right now. He would deal with it at a later time. Now was time to work.

Laura hugged him fiercely. “We will get them back, brother.”

“I know,” Derek said, taking in his sister’s comforting scent.

Lydia, having ridden in on Peter’s back, walked up to the Nemeton, eyes fierce even through tears. “Please help us. We don’t know where they’ve been taken.”

Wind blew around them, switching directions constantly, frustrated and helpless. Around and around, the breeze battered them, the force building until all of them held their hands over their sensitive ears.

_TAKEN MY CHILD! CAN’T FEEL HIM. GONE FROM ME. BRING. HIM. BACK. TO. ME!_

“We want nothing more than to bring him and Malia home. Please,” Derek said, his voice breaking with emotion. “Please, if you know anything, can do anything, please at least point us in the right direction.”

A branch breaks overhead and crashes down through the long limbs of the Nemeton until it lands on the ground. Derek noted that it vaguely resembled an arrow.

Laura’s shrill squawk would normally make him laugh. Realizing the arrow branch pointed at her, he understood her reaction.

“But I don’t know anything!” Laura cried, tears welling up and spilling over. “I would have said something immediately.” She turned to Derek. “You know I would have told you already.”

Derek nodded and hugged her tight. “Come on, let’s go home and brainstorm together.”

_…hurry…_

Two hours later…

The pack was in an uproar of stress and frustration. They had made no progress when it came to finding their missing packmates. They were piled around the room, trying to find comfort in each other, though it was more sharing the misery by that point. Kyra, Parrish and Liam were taking care of Isaac, who remained largely unresponsive. He had a heartbeat and he was breathing, but other than that, he wasn’t there. Parrish had wrapped himself around Isaac, hoping his preternatural heat would help in some way. It felt like the only way to be of assistance. Peter had pulled him aside earlier to ask if they should go through legal channels to get their pack home. Parrish had to admit that it would take too long, they could be dead before the sheriff’s office could even come up with a search warrant. Peter nodded and thanked him and Parrish had seen death in his eyes and didn’t pity the ones who would be on the receiving end of that look.

After the first hour had passed, Derek had retreated to his bedroom, needing the scent of his mate near him. He had a feeling he was both scaring and worrying his pack as he couldn’t seem to relax enough to leave his beta shift.

Laura couldn’t settle down either, the stress overwhelming her. She obviously knew something but didn’t know that she knew it. Milo shadowed her frenetic pacing and made her drink some water. He tried to feed her, but she had dry heaved at the sight of food, so he stopped trying.

Peter finally approached her and took her in his arms.

Laura burst into tears. “I’m sorry, Uncle Peter, I’m trying, I swear I’m trying.”

“I know, Laura-loo,” Peter murmured, using her childhood nickname. “You know something, we just have to figure out what, right?”

“Right,” she said, sniffling softly. She pulled back and got herself under control. She’d had her pity party and now it was time to get to work. “Any suggestions?”

“Of course I have suggestions,” Peter said with a half smirk, trying to get a smile out of her. It worked. Sort of. A pained smile was a start. “So. The Nemeton assumes you have an idea. Let’s retrace your steps. What did you do today?”

Laura, calm now that she has a purpose, began running through her day. “Then, while you guys were rescuing Isaac, I went through Milo’s notes on Mom and Dad. I talked with the family of the missing people. Then I…”

“Hold on,” Peter interrupted. “You spoke to the families? Why? What did they say?”

“I wanted to know if anything out of the ordinary had happened in the days and weeks preceding the kidnapping. It turns out both of them were approached by the UWoL. The woman, Kate, tried to recruit them. Colby McKinnon said no right away. Zia Bracken had agreed to meet with them, but was freaked out and eventually said no,” Laura reported, going through the information once again as she spoke.

There was a pounding on the stairs as Derek barreled into the room. “Where did she meet them? Was it the church or somewhere else?” Derek’s eyes were red, but he’d managed to get control over his shift. He was carrying his mate’s scent in the form of a t-shirt of Stiles’ hanging out the back pocket of his jeans.

Laura thought for a moment. “Zia’s sister just said one of the UWoL’s offices.”

“Let’s go,” Peter said and jogged off toward Milo’s office. Laura, Milo and Derek all followed suit, hope alive in all their scent’s.

Laura got back on the phone with Zia’s sister. Milo and Peter were researching the church’s various lands and offices. There were more than they’d imagined. This church had their hands in everything in the city. Derek paced and kept pulling the shirt up to his nose before replacing it in his pocket.

Laura reported that Zia’s sister had only said something about it looked industrial without it being a warehouse. It felt cold to her and gave her the heebie jeebies.

“I think I’ve got it, based off of what Laura heard,” Milo said. When everyone was looking at him, he pulled up a picture of an older building. “It used to be a bakery. The basement was never renovated and it’s advertised as belonging to the UWoL. While the upper three floors are owned by individuals, all of them are elders of the church.”

“So, really, all of it belongs to the church,” Peter clarified.

Milo nodded. “Yep. And it’s on the edge of town in the warehouse district. They would need… noise control,” Milo said, scrunching his nose with the necessity of implying their packmates might be very hurt. “That part of town is mostly derelict.”

Derek gritted his teeth. “You’re right, that’s most likely it. What about the rest of their properties?”

It took about five more minutes to run through the church’s buildings and made note to turn them in for anything they could when all was said and done. No other properties fit the needs of the church like Milo’s find, so they returned to the living room and gathered everyone together.

“All pups will stay here, in the panic room. I wouldn’t usually take a mated pair, as I am with Boyd and Erica, but they both won’t be going into the fight. One will be a guard. Laura, Lydia, Parrish, you three will stay home as well. Parrish, stay with Isaac, it seems like he is at least comfortable when you’re around. You can go ahead and go now,” Derek instructed. Parrish nodded and left to return to Isaac’s side.

“I want to go,” Laura said through gritted teeth.

Derek walked up to her and put his hand on the side of her neck. “Sister. I know you want to go, hell, you deserve to go. But you know this is how it has to be. If it were your mate, I would be staying here. Don’t leave this pack without a leader,” he said. “You staying here gives me comfort that the rest of the family will be protected and safe. I know that if I die, the pack will continue on under a strong, capable, fierce leader. You are that leader. Got it, little sister?” Derek said and gave a smile when Laura rolled her eyes.

“Little my ass. Twenty freaking minutes. Twenty minutes and you’ve rubbed it in all our lives,” Laura said with a rueful smile. “Go bring our family home.”

Derek’s smile faded and his eyes went fierce. “I will bring them home.” He brought her in for a tight hug.

Leaving the pack house, Derek could only hope that he was able to keep his word.

Like earlier in the day, when they get to their location, Derek splits them up into teams. They travel together and prepare to split up when the old bakery comes into view.

Derek gives the visual signal and the teams separate. Just as they were about to lose sight of each other, Derek heard what sounded like a roar. His mate’s roar.

Breaking into a run, he is suddenly thrown backwards by the power of the blast the explosion causes when the bakery blows up.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale of My Mate, My Spark, My Own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for light gore. See End Notes...

Gerard Argent returns to the torture room and gloats over Malia’s limp body. This was how all werewolves should end up, he claimed. At least she’d died free of the curse.

Stiles was biting the inside of his cheek to control his grief. He would not shed a tear in front of this man. The only thing this man would ever see was his fury and wrath and the promise of a very painful death.

When Gerard turned to him, Stiles made a show of rolling his eyes and shook his head.

Gerard and two of his flunkies paid him back by beating the shit out of him. Ever had your stitches rip out? Doesn’t feel good. Especially when it’s your lips that are stitched. Even more especially when Gerard then lets Kate sew them back together.

Stiles was nearly grateful. The all-consuming pain kept his mind off the pale body of his broken pack sister.

When Argent then punched him in his swollen mouth, followed by a punch to what he was sure were broken ribs, Stiles couldn’t hold back a muffled scream of pain. The Argents and their lackeys laughed before moving to one side of the large room to talk.

The cumulation of pain and grief and rage sent a shockwave through his body and right into his power center where his Spark lived. He closed his eyes when he realized they were going to flash purple. There was no way he was letting these assholes know he had some sort of power back. Taking a long moment to search himself, he discovered he didn’t have much power back. Maybe just enough to try and buy his way out of this.

Pushing that always nebulous energy out of himself, he connected with Zia behind him.

 _Zia Bracken, you’ve been missing quite a long time. Your family misses you,_ he said to her in mind. _Don’t show a reaction, but if you want to talk about an alternate ending to this little story, push some of your magic my way and we can have a little chat._

Stiles heard the tiniest exhalation and felt a mental doorbell ring before a tentative voice greeted him.

_I am so freaking sorry, sir. I didn’t want to do this. He threatened to have my sister killed. I snuck out one time and he cut her brake line. Luckily, she wasn’t hurt too badly, but I couldn’t risk her being killed because of me. I’m so sorry. These people are seriously fucked up. I don’t have anything against werewolves, honestly. I’ve only met a few and they’ve always been super nice. One guy even took my pain when I got a migraine._

Stiles could hear her heartbeat the entire time and never once did it so much as skip a beat. She was telling the truth. This girl was not good at hiding her feelings, though. She was alternating between fear, relief, disgust, hopelessness and desperation, the feelings changing practically between thoughts.

 _Is it the same as Colby?_ Stiles asked.

 _They don’t let us talk to each other unless it’s in front of them so we can only talk about magic stuff. But yeah, we’ve been able to share emotions and he is just as full of fear as I am,”_ Zia said. _Would you like me to take your pain?_

Stiles sent a mental head shake. _No. It wasn’t until the pain overwhelmed me that I was able to access this small portion of my Spark._

 _So you’re really a Spark?_ She asked in amazement. _I read about a Spark back when I first discovered I had magic._

 _The One?_ Stiles asked.

 _Yeah! You ever read about him? Or her. Could be either one. The One will bring life back to the planet after humans destroyed all the life forms._ Zia sounded like a fangirl, her voice dreamy.

 _I’ve looked him in the eye, to be honest. He’s not all that._ Stiles chuckled to himself.

A small peep escaped her before she locked down her excitement and went back to the blank face she’d been keeping all this time.

_You’ve met him?_

_Yep. Known him since the day I was born,_ Stiles teased.

_Oh my goddess. Oh my goddess. It’s you? You’re The One? So that must mean you’ve met the Nemeton?_

Stiles sent her a mental hug. _It’s me and I have. I will be happy to introduce you if you help get me and my pack sister out of here. I just need access to my magic. You don’t even have to lift a finger. Literally._

“Alright Alpha mate. Your turn. We’re hoping your magic will keep you alive. Colby, come,” Kate commanded.

_I can’t stop this, I can only give you your magic back. I’m so sorry. I will do what I can to get you both out._

Stiles felt his magic slowly pour back into himself.

Kate and Colby stood over him and started chanting in Latin.

Stiles swore to his wolf that he would get him back. Then he poured his Spark into every cell that the wolf left empty behind it. It was horribly painful to have his wolf soul ripped from him. He moaned and cried behind his stitched lips. It felt like his skin was ripped layer by layer before being covered in gasoline and scraped with a razor blade doused in bleach. Pain. Unnatural. Wrong. Empty. He begged his magic to take him over, don’t let him die. He had to get Malia to the Nemeton, Isaac too, if he was still alive. They could still fix this.

With a flash of golden light, it was done. His wolf, his precious, beautiful wolf was gone.

His Spark remained, however, and filled the spaces left behind. It strengthened him, lifted him up and prepared for war.

“Oh Alpha mate. You still in there?” Kate smacked his cheek. “What the hell?”

Her stunned murmur pleased him to no end. He knew she was seeing the bruising and swelling disappear from his face. Kate and her lackeys, including Colby backed away from him. He froze his enemies to the floor, paralyzing them in place.

With a single thought, Stiles felt the stitching in his mouth disappear and the ropes and chains break from around his body. He then rose and rose… and rose above them until he was floating by the ceiling, so full of his power, he knew he couldn’t be stopped.

“You did me a favor, Kate and Gerard Argent. Without my wolf, there was more room for my _magic and power_ ,” he said, his words echoing throughout the room. He used it to stab at them, slice them open where they’d hurt him and Malia and Isaac. Filled them with the fear they’d embedded in Zia and Colby. “You only have yourselves to thank for your imminent death. I will be free. You will pay with your lives,” he swore to them. “You call me unnatural with my wolf and my magic and yet you think being a serial killer isn’t worse? You really have lost touch with reality. I’d suggest a therapist, but you won’t be living that long. Zia and Colby, your sins will be forgiven you. Sister, come to me,” he said and held out his hand.

Everyone but him gasped as Malia’s lifeless body came floating toward him until he could capture her and keep her next to him, attached by magic.

“Zia, take Colby’s hand,” he instructed.

“You can’t do this! I am the Apostle! I decide between life and death! I am god!” Gerard Argent yelled, his face turning beet red in his fury.

“And I,” Stiles intoned, his voice loud, reverberating and deafening to the frozen group. “I am _the One_.”

“Oh fuck,” Gerard groaned and shoved Kate in front of him.

Clearly he was a fan.

With a single thought, he encased his escapees and himself into a protected bubble. He felt himself begin to glow from his chest out to his arms and down into his hands. He held them, palms together, the glow becoming a burning ball that he pushed and twisted in on itself over and over again as it gained more power. Separating his hands, the ball hung between his hands, growing as he moved his hands apart. Like a rubber band snapping, his hands flew back together and as they slapped, the building exploded into a million pieces. Luckily, their bubble muffled the sound because it would have probably deafened them.

At the last moment, he felt the auras of his family surrounding the building and gently pushed them all back out of the way. They hovered there in the destroyed room. “Colby, Zia, close your eyes.” He maneuvered closer to where the Argents had been standing, screaming and cursing them to the very end. Argent clearly was a man among men, his exploded corpse covering every inch of the half of the room they were in. He saw a bloody chunk of blond hair mixed with brain matter and was satisfied he had taken care of the threat against their family.

Then he and his bubble of people floated gently out and above the decimated bakery. He saw his pack move to one side of the building, brushing themselves off, and he waved at them. He saw nobody was hurt and was so relieved, happy tears trickled down his cheek.

Gently touching down, Stiles gathered Malia to him as he sank to the ground, brushing her hair away from her face.

“Malia!” Peter yelled and quickly made his way to them. “No!”

“We need to get her to the Nemeton,” Stiles said, feeling his connection to the ancient tree calling him home once more. “I think we might have a chance if we hurry.”

“We will. Come on, let’s get her to the car,” Peter said and took his daughter in his arms. His heart ached and tears welled up and over faster than he could blink them away. “Baby girl, Dad is here. I’ve got you. You gotta be strong for me.”

“We’ll take her with my magic, Peter. It’ll be faster,” Stiles told him. He saw Derek barreling toward him and stood with his arms out.

“Stiles, my love, my mate, my Own. I thought I’d lost you,” Derek said in a rush, half growl and half whimper. He took Stiles in his arms and hugged him with all the strength he had in him. Hearing a pained noise, he pulled back and really looked at his mate. He was much paler than he was the last time he’d seen him. “Love, what happened?”

Stiles eyes watered. “They took my wolf, Der. He’s gone. It hurt so bad.” He knew he couldn’t go into it now or he’d break apart.

That’s what Derek was seeing. His mate’s wolf was gone. “How… How are you still alive?” He searched for and found pain, raw and deep, hidden inside his mate. Pulling it from him, he thanked Mother Moon that his mate was still here, no matter how it had to happen.

“I’ll tell you all about it, I swear, but we need to get Malia to Nemeton. I don’t think we have much time,” Stiles said. “Peter, come closer. Somebody call ahead and get Isaac to the Nemeton. The whole pack should be there as well.” He saw Milo on the phone and knew Laura would make sure everyone was there. Pointing to Zia and Colby, he motioned them over to stand with them. “I will explain how these two fit in with the story once all is said and done. There just isn’t time to go into all of it. Just know Kate and Gerard and their lackeys are dead. I can tell you for certain, they are in more parts than the bakery.”

Derek gave a satisfied growl, eyes shining red. He stroked his fingers down Stiles’ cheek. “I’m so proud to be your mate. I’m proud of you and I trust you. Let’s get our pack taken care of.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Stiles murmured, leaning in for a kiss. “I’m so happy I got back to you.” His mate growled against his throat before heading off to help drive the pack home.

Stiles kept his magic concentrated on speed and Malia and Isaac’s flagging bodies as they flew into the forest in the Preserve. Malia was especially worrying. Isaac could look around a little, there was a tiny shadow of life. Malia was just a body that was still warm. Barely.

The Nemeton came into view and Stiles couldn’t help a shaky sigh of relief, knowing everything would be okay very soon. Peter hadn’t said much other than his murmurings to Malia, but Stiles could feel the desperation and gut-clenching fear he was dealing with.

“Almost there, Peter, I’ll land as gently as I can,” Stiles assured him.

Peter clutched Malia closer to his chest. “Forget gentle, just do it fast. I will protect her.”

All the same, Stiles tried to make sure the bubble gave a bit of a bounce before settling gently and then disappearing altogether. Stiles gasped at the sight of the mangled tree.

“Nemeton!” Stiles hurried to the tree, knelt and put both hands on. “Nemeton, please attend your faithful servant. I will be honored to heal you once more. I beg that you assist me in restoring my sister and brother. Their wolves were stolen and they’ll die without them.” He poured through his desperation and hope.

_My One, you return to me! Your Spark is showing me how you beat the evil ones. I am pleased. I am in need of healing but will assist you as you request. Then you and I will commune once more. Bring them and the mages who worked with the Evil._

“Thank you, Nemeton. You honor me. Zia, Colby, come over and be ready to assist in the returning of the wolves,” Stiles said and ushered the nervous mages and then arranged Peter holding Malia and Jordan holding Isaac.

As the Nemeton spoke, he translated for the others. “Peter and Jordan, Nemeton encourages you to draw pain because just as it hurt being taken out, it now has to be put back in and it’s kind of like putting bleach in a cut. Like, Malia and Isaac are kind of raw feeling inside. The wolves belong in those spaces and will heal quickly once they are readjusted. Malia will have an easier time, her body naturally has that wolf space in her. Isaac doesn’t. Anyway, so pull all the pain you can. Zia and Colby, you will place your hand on Nemeton and the other hand on the wolf you pulled. Nemeton and I will coordinate. Nemeton will draw the wolf spirits back down and I’ll help ease them back home, with your help.” The mages were determined to help make up for what happened and quickly agreed.

Stiles heard the pack approaching and they suddenly had a chain made up of the entire pack, one hand on the person in front of them. They all wanted to be part of healing their packmates.

“Everyone ready?” Stiles saw nods all around and completed the link as he tuned into Nemeton, the mages and Isaac and Malia. _I propose we reunite Malia first. Her body grows weak fast._

Nemeton agreed and the wind started to blow around them. A deep cry went out below their feet shaking the ground and the pack. The wolf souls were beckoned from the Beyond where they rested. In a move only able to happen when there was a group of people with one mind, one goal and one heart, the pack welcomed the souls. They began drawing on the person in front of them leading all the way to Malia.

Stiles felt when Malia’s wolf flowed like a wild waterfall deep back into her body, both of them gasping and breathing air as if for the first time. There was no pain. The pack settled a little, seeing their sister breathing with purpose not just because it has to. Within moments, Malia was blinking, eyes slowly opening. Looking around her, she gave a small smile to Peter who was gazing at her with such relief and love. She turned and smiled at Stiles. “I think guard duty is exciting enough,” she whispered. Her complaints of guard duty seemed like it was years ago, not hours.

Grinning at her, Stiles winked and brought everyone’s attention back into place so they could help Isaac. Once more the pack pulled pain as Stiles and the Nemeton guided his wolf back into him. Near instantly, Isaac’s cheeks grew pink with health and his body relaxed as it was made whole once more.

Around him, the pack relaxed, cuddled around their packmates and began sending soothing streaks of love through the pack bonds like fireworks.

Stiles grinned seeing that Derek was the only one who remained with him at the base of the giant tree.

“Will you let me take your pain?” Derek asked, running his finger down his mate’s cheek.

“Once Nemeton is healed. It’ll only take a moment.” He felt Derek put his hands on his hips as he concentrated on encouraging wood grains to grow again. Feeling the familiar healing magic flow from him to Nemeton filled him with peace and love that he then sewed into the bark of the tree.

 _Now, my One. You will be whole once more. With a little extra,_ Nemeton said with a wooden grin.

Stiles only had a moment to puzzle over the ‘extra’ before his beautiful wolf came flowing from Nemeton and back into him. It felt like he could really breathe, the strength filling him up, opening him to the welcoming pack bond. He and the rest of the pack shared a howl of victory and relief.

There in the corner to the left of his Spark was something new and shiny. Newborn. _What is that?_ It felt weird and expectant?

_This extra is what you needed to bring your purpose to fruition._

Stiles thought for a moment. It had been a day of A Lot. Then he cued in on the word Purpose. He was the One. He was sent to bring back all the lost species and peoples that had filled Earth before mankind decided it needed to be the most powerful. He could feel it deep inside him, a nest almost, a waiting feeling. Waiting for him to claim the wild magic and bring it forth once more.

_I will be honored to return the world to its true owners._

That thought was for another day.

Here and now it was time to regroup, catch everyone up on things, and return the mages to their families. There was time for healing and for bonding and loving each other into feeling safe and happy once more.

But first…

_. . . . . . . . . ._

_Three Weeks Later…_

With the assistance of Jordan Parrish and the testimony of Isaac Hale, Scott McCall and Allison Argent are charged with kidnapping. There just happened to be footage on the coffee shop that showed Scott dragging Isaac to the van. Then Zia and Colby pitched in and said the lovers were both there when they were kidnapped as well. Again, footage was found on several CCTV cameras. He always said Scott wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.

Scott was to be shipped down to the detention center in the next town over. He wouldn’t even be in the same city as Allison. Sorry, Scotty, old boy, no more Allison for you!

Stiles went to see him. He couldn’t help himself. The moment of _you’re in jail and I’m not neenerneener_ was tempered by his moral superiority. For so long Scott had looked down on him and now he just stood there outside the cell and tipped his head as he looked at Scott. He was purposely trying to make him uncomfortable.

It was working.

“What do you want Stiles?” Scott sneered at him, running his fingers through greasy hair. Judging by the smell, Scott hadn’t bathed in days. Maybe a week.

Gross. This was fun.

“I want to help you, Scott,” Stiles said sweetly. It was the same tone Scott had copped when he and Allison had wanted to “help” him.

Scott’s expression immediately widened as he grinned and fell for it. “Really? Awesome! I know one of the pack is a lawyer. Can you get me his name? You always come through, old buddy!”

“I do, right? Put ‘er there, old friend,” Stiles said and held his hand out.

Scott took the bait and stood right up, approaching with his hand forward.

As soon as he got close enough, Stiles reached his hand inside Scott’s and jerked his arm back like a whip and there in his hand sparkled a hazy spectral wolf who disappeared after winking at Stiles.

Scott immediately began wheezing. “What did you do?”

“Well Scotty, I know how much you don’t like werewolves and the like. How above that you are. So, I didn’t want you tainted by the touch of wolf. I exorcised him from you. You should be thankful. You really are pure now,” Stiles said with a wicked grin

Scott began yelling at him, only to have to stop when he started wheezing harder.

“Might wanna get that looked at,” Stiles said and gave him a finger wave before leaving the hall. Derek was waiting for him in the car. They were going to have a coffee date before the big pack dinner that night. They were having a memorial for Talia and Asher. Stiles had been in contact with Nemeton and there was a ritual Stiles was going to do that would reunite them with their wolves. Even from the Beyond.

He grinned as the sound of Scott screeching his name before it cut off as his lungs seized. Stiles wasn’t completely insensitive, he’d let county jail medic know to have Scott's old prescription ready to go. As he walked out the door, the sun shone down on him and he looked up, letting it bathe his face in heat. His smile never left and when he got in the car, Derek couldn’t help wanting to taste that grin.

Stiles let him.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

_Some point in the near future…_

Tiny silver wings shivered and shuddered as they got used to the warm air of the forest. The little being looked up at him, curious pink eyes tracing his face, the odd brown dots on his face and the amazement in his golden eyes.

“My name is Stiles,” the One said with an awed smile. “Welcome back.”

_The End…._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light gore for talking about seeing brains and a piece of skull.. it's mentioned, not explicitly described.  
> ....  
> Thank you so much for reading this. I know it took forever for me to finish it, but I loved writing it and living in this world. Thank you for your support and kind words. It really does a writer's heart some good. Be safe, friends!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please let me know with a comment! Thank you for reading!


End file.
